To Bring Him Home
by dinabar
Summary: Nikki promises to bring Harry back from Hungary, he's still alive but he's not Harry. Can she bring the real Harry back? and can she do it without destroying herself? Spoilers for Bloodlines and The Prodigal.
1. Chapter 1

**To bring him home**

_All characters you recognise belong to the BBC, just borrowing them temporarily._

_Dedicated to all those people who wanted 'Just Go Away Harry' to continue and Lilypad for her creative assistance. Thanks always to Charlotte and the YouTube resource bank._

_Contains references to Bloodlines, The Prodigal and adult themes: guilt, death and mental health. This is not a fluff fest so if you're feeling in anyway depressed, this is probably not the fic for you. If not grab some tissues and head on in. (Otherwise, hang on for a while and join us for the last few chapters). I always love reviews!_

**One**

"Is he alright?" Nikki asked her voice thin in the air. Her world only just recently patched back together, splintering and shattering in front of her as she looked at Harry lying on the floor of that bus. She caught her breath.

'When? When? She wondered. 'When had Leo become her reference point and not Harry?'

'Harry, he was right there, in front of her, wasn't he?'

But her question received no reply. The answer was obvious. There was no light in Harry's eyes; he didn't even seem to have noticed them. His face was spattered in blood, his limbs were visibly trembling, he was obviously in shock, but there was more than that. It had only taken her seconds to realise what it was. He was dead.

She had come to Budapest in order to bring the body of Harry Cunningham home. She would be doing just that. Looking at him lying there on that bus, she couldn't help but think that Harry Cunningham, her Harry, the Harry she loved in her own fractured, messed up way had died that day and life was never going to be the same.

When the police had finally finished with them, Leo called a cab and took them back to the hotel. Harry had refused to go to the hospital. So Nikki had made herself scarce whilst Leo put him in the shower and cleaned him up. When she returned he was sat bolt upright in the hotel chair. It almost looked as if he could have been staring at the view, only the curtains were still closed.

She'd never seen him sit so still, not in all the years she'd known him. Something was always moving, a pencil, a pen spinning around on his fingers, a foot tapping. His body, his being was characterised by movement and activity. For a man he was surprisingly limber, he could curl himself into the smallest of chairs. Even when he was stationary, the way he stood oozed action. She could see him in her mind's eye leaning back against the windowsill in Leo's office, his body curving into the angular shape of the windowsill but itself making a perfect arc.

And how many times had she caught him watching her at work? Leaning against the glass, arms folded, half smile on his face, stood on one leg, the other crossed in front with his hip stuck out to one side. He looked like a bow pulled taught, always alert, always ready for the next adventure.

But all that was gone.

He was still and quiet and angular and angry.

From somewhere unbidden the thought briefly flittered across her consciousness that she would have been better off if he really had been dead. She quickly suppressed it, but there was no stopping the feeling of dread that was creeping back into her being after yesterday's brief reprieve.

Leo noticed her staring, and sent her off to buy some analgesics. She suspected he had plenty already but she was grateful of any distraction and to be away from Harry.

She chided herself again, that sounded awful, she should be overjoyed at the possibility of spending time with Harry. After what she had just been through when she thought he was dead. That moment. That moment when the shadow behind Leo had moved and she felt sure she was hallucinating, or going to vomit and then he had been there. Smelling of sweat, fear and borrowed clothes but under it all, it was Harry and she had wept. She had looked into his eyes and seen the sorrow and pain and his desperation and she had responded in the only way she could. To cling onto him and to let the warmth of his arms melt the shock and regrets from her own heart.

But then too soon he was gone, she knew he was risking his life again. He was so focussed on finding Anna's killer. She hadn't needed to tell him to be careful. She hadn't needed to say anything. They both knew there would be consequences. So she had pressed her face against his, trying to leave an imprint. She had to leave him something to cling on to. Something to remind him that life was worth living and to keep him from the worst excesses of his own recklessness. But it had been no use. He had disappeared back into that world of hatred that she would never know and now he had gone and got himself lost somehow.

Her phone beeped, breaking her reverie and startling her into realising quite how far she had walked. It was a text from Leo.

"Taking H to embassy to sort out paperwork. Back as soon as we can. He will be alright you know."


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

The British Embassy had seemed to be only too glad to be rid of them. Harry's papers had been processed in a matter of hours and she'd gone to collect them the following day. She couldn't wait to be out of Hungary and she was sure that she would never return.

Harry was still sat in his chair when she got back to the hotel. He had managed to mumble a 'thank you' as she'd handed over the passport. It was the first words he'd spoken to her. She wondered if he'd been sat there all night. She knew for a fact he'd not eaten more than a croissant but was grateful that he didn't appear to have finished off her bottle of Scotch.

She couldn't help a tear rolling down her cheek, as she stared out of the window of the taxi on the brief trip back to the airport. She'd said it herself.

'Going back will be worse,'

She'd only imagined then, that she would be returning with his dead body. But this? This was worse.

She was dreading the flight. Three hours or so sat next to an immobile Harry. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair.

##########

Leo had taken pity on her. He'd put Harry next to the window and left her the aisle seat. Leo looked cramped in the middle seat but he'd squeezed her hand as they took off. She couldn't help another tear from slipping out.

"Let's all go home." Leo said and cracked an over ambitious smile. Harry remained oblivious, head facing straight ahead, eyes focusing on the back of the chair in front.

It was her fault she reasoned on the flight back. She known he was in trouble. She had felt it. It was almost tangible. One of those unexplained moments of synchronicity.

She remembered sitting at her desk, that night, on her own, in the middle of the night, waiting for news and staring at a Hungarian website. She hadn't wanted him to go on the trip in the first place, and not because of the extra work it caused her. She'd just assumed the worry was some latent jealousy because he was off with one of his beautiful young things. But he'd always come back. Well he had all those other times before.

No, this was very different. And as she sat there surrounded by silence and the encroaching fear that something cataclysmic was happening in a country far far away. She prayed as she had never prayed before. She bargained and promised God anything, anything to have him back.

She thought about their last stupid conversation. She should have known then, that something was wrong. What would possess Harry Cunningham to tell her he loved her? Even if it was because she was doing his work and he'd meant it as a joke. But his eyes weren't joking. She only had to look into Harry's eyes, if she wanted to know what he really thought about something. It could cut through the jokes, and the obfuscation and even his silence and reveal him to her and to her only like an open book.

But not now. Those beautiful expressive eyes were now dark, clouded, bleak and frightening and she was afraid to look too deeply because she didn't want to see what he had suffered. It would be too much. She had told Harry once that she wasn't afraid of him, it was true she wasn't. But there was a part of him that was so dark she didn't dare look at too closely in case she recognised her own pain and despair there and so they always skirted around the deep darkness between them in the same way they had always danced around their attraction.

So her prayers had been answered. She'd always had faith, but she couldn't help feeling that God had never been on her side; this was just another example of his perverse sense of humour. Harry had been saved from the flames but at what cost? It was all her fault.


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

Two hours into the flight and Harry finally closed his eyes.

"What are we going to do with him, when we get home?" Nikki whispered to Leo.

"Hunh?" replied Leo.

"Oh, sorry I forgot you were sleeping." Nikki nodded her head in the direction of Harry. He was still sat straight up in his chair but his eyes were closed.

"What are we going to do with Harry?" she repeated.

"Well we can't leave him on his own, that's for sure," Leo said.

"One of us will have to drive his car home; he told me he left it at the Heathrow." Leo continued.

"Mine's there too, what about yours?"

"I took the tube," Nikki sniffed. "There wasn't quite so much of a hurry when I left," she said sadly.

"I can't see him going to a hospital," Leo added. "Although that's where he belongs, that leg wound looks nasty."

"We can't send him to his mothers, not with him like this, not after what I told her," Nikki shuddered at the memory of that phone call. It was only fair that she'd spoken to Mrs Cunningham. Leo had already done his phone call from Hell when he had called her.

"So that leave's, your house, my flat or his flat." Leo summarised.

"I'm sure Janet would understand, especially after she sees him." Leo continued.

"Janet has just put up with you disappearing off to Hungary in the middle of the night, are you sure?" Nikki asked.

"It was Harry!" Leo simply stated. "She knows my priorities."

"She'll need lots of flowers and a spa day, Leo, don't take her for granted." Nikki begged.

"I know, Nikki, I know. If all this has taught us anything, we have to appreciate the time we have." Leo replied.

Nikki looked across at Harry. His eyes were still shut but no part of his body looked relaxed.

"Leo, you don't think we should…." She broke off and looked at him again.

"He just seems so….."

"What if he needs more help than we can give him?"

"No, Nikki. He will be ok. I've got contacts. We will find him the best help we can get but there is no way he will agree to a hospital of any variety and I won't make him."

They sat in silence for a moment and were stunned when Harry suddenly spoke.

"I want to go home."

"I want Nikki," it was all he said, his eyes still shut fast and his hands tightly gripping the arm rest.


	4. Chapter 4

**Four**

He had nothing left. Nothing of her at all. How was that even possible?

Two months of his life, three meetings, some phone calls but there was nothing. He had no photos, no mementoes, nothing to prove she had been real at all. Just the memory of her face and their brief time together, and his name scribbled in her diary. There would probably always be a scar on his eyebrow and his leg but that was hardly romantic. He kept his eyes shut tight, picturing her face, committing every feature of her body to his memory. He relived their time together in the roof garden, before their ridiculous fight. He played the whole thing back in his mind in slow motion, recalling every smile, the way the sunlight danced off her skin and the feel of her hands in his hair. He had to remember. He had to keep her alive somehow. Otherwise what had been the point of it all?

She had no one else left. Her father was gone. Her mother dead and buried years ago. The girl's she helped had been murdered. Her colleagues dead or too frightened to admit even to knowing her. And her child. Their child, well it had never had a chance. Who would remember Anna Sandor in the years to come? Marina and a handful of crackhead whores? He had to remember her. He had to love her didn't he? There had to be some sense to it all.

The drone of the aeroplane had calmed him, but not enough to send him to sleep. When was the last time he had slept? Probably when Janos had drugged him and that really didn't count. He was dimly aware of Leo and Nikki talking. 'Nikki' he thought, another woman's face drifting into his consciousness. Whereas he had spent the last hours since he'd been returned picturing Anna smiling up at him. All he could see when he thought about Nikki was the way she'd looked at him back at the memorial, when it was his turn to return from the dead. He shivered. Why did he always cause them so much pain?

What were they talking about? He heard Leo saying he wouldn't force Harry to a hospital. That was a relief, because he wasn't going. He had to go home.

But wouldn't that be worse? To go home. What would he do there? He knew he wouldn't be going to sleep any time soon. What was he supposed to do? Sit in the dark and imagine his dead girlfriend. Drink himself into oblivion whilst hating himself for arguing with her. For not being there. For being all the things she said he was. An immature coward who always missed the opportunity to step up to the plate? He couldn't hate himself more. And he was afraid, more afraid now than when he stared down the barrel of that gun.

Afraid that everything was pointless.

Afraid he'd made the wrong decisions.

Afraid all these years he'd been wrong.

Afraid he would never have the chance to right the wrongs he had caused and all those deaths on his hands.

Afraid that he would never have a clear conscience again.

Isn't that what Marina had told him? A clear conscience was better than sex.

He would have to go home, there was no other choice. But he couldn't be there on his own, he had to have something, someone that could look him in the eye and not see as far as the abyss. He needed tethering somehow. His life was in tatters and being whipped by the wind, like one of those Tibetan prayer flags, stuck halfway up a mountain in the Himalayas.

"I want to go home."

"I want Nikki," he mumbled.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks to my fellow angst loving reviewers :) and readers**

**Five**

The location had changed, but not much else. Now Harry was sat bolt upright in the passenger seat of his car. He still had his eyes closed and had there been armrests he would have been digging his fingernails into them, but there weren't. He had drifted through the airport, guided by Nikki and Leo. How things had changed? He was a fiercely independent man yet he let himself be led meekly through passport control and out to the car park. At least he knew he could trust his colleagues. Why had he followed Janos? He had so many questions. His brain hurt furiously.

He knew his behaviour was worrying his friends, but he just couldn't pretend that everything was fine. There had been too many lies already and he didn't feel like adding to them. No more lies. Perhaps that was his new raison d'être. He took a quick peek at Nikki's profile as she drove them home and sighed.

"Are you alright?" Nikki asked having heard the sigh.

"Hmm, peachy," Harry lied.

Shit!

The no lying thing, it was not going to work.

"We're nearly there," she continued and then fell silent again.

Harry sighed again. She was good for him. Nikki, that was. She knew instinctively when he needed to be quiet and of all the people in his life she was the one person he could trust never to lie to him. Why he never returned the courtesy he couldn't imagine. Well not about the big things. They both did the 'I'm fine' thing, but that didn't count, they didn't need words to answer those questions.

His mother had never told him the whole truth, well not until recently anyway. The truth about how his father had died, about the way he had abused her and her affair. Maybe she was just protecting him and it wasn't the information a teenage boy needed about his father, but the deception hurt. It seemed his relationships had gone downhill from there. And then there was Francis Mynall a friend from the past. He'd done nothing but lie and messed up not only his own but his Niall's life too.

He could trust Nikki to tell him the truth, it was fundamental to their friendship. Maybe that's why he wanted her to take him home. There was definitely more they had to say when the time was right. But primarily it was because she wouldn't withhold the truth from him. Not even when it was painful.

He had seen it in Leo's eyes that day at the memorial. Leo wouldn't have told him about the baby, he didn't want Nikki to tell him about the baby, trying to spare him more pain and disappointment. But Harry had known there was more, that was why he had appealed to Nikki, begged her even because he knew she couldn't refuse him. And she hadn't disappointed him, she had told him the truth even though it had cost her dearly. And still he lied to her and manipulated her, what a friend he was. He didn't deserve her, he thought sadly.

The car stopped, and Harry opened his eyes but they weren't back in his road.

"Back in a minute," Nikki had said and dived into the Tesco express, locking him in the car.

'Did she do it on purpose?' he wondered, was she expecting him to run off? Or maybe she had no idea what to do either.

She returned a few minutes later with a couple of shopping bags, which she slung in the back seat of his car.

He couldn't help the 'If you spill something on my upholstery look,' stare he gave her. But oddly he saw the ghost of smile dance across her eyes.

"Let's go home," she said.


	6. Chapter 6

**Six**

She had survived the flight, the airport and the car journey to Harry's flat. She couldn't tell whether Harry insisted on having his eyes closed the whole time so he didn't have to witness her driving his precious car, or whether he was trying to sleep. She suspected it wasn't the latter. She had almost made a joke at the airport about him handing over the keys to her, but it wasn't the right time. Not hearing a classic Cunningham comeback from a set up line from her would just confirm all her worst fears, that her Harry was gone for good. So she tried to add her own one liner in her head.

It wasn't funny.

She concentrated on trying to find the exit of the car park, figuring she could stall the tears a while longer. But how much longer?

If she was going to be on 'Harry watch' for the foreseeable future, she would have to stop and get some food. There was no way either of them had the stomach for one of their old style take away nights. But she might just tempt him with a bit of bread, and ham. Some basic stuff and a bit of fruit. And coffee, she was going to need a lot of coffee to get through the night, but she slipped a packet of decaff in. Staying awake was not going to be an issue for Harry. She'd grabbed a couple of bottles of wine, as she queued for the checkout. Her only defence here was that it wasn't more Scotch.

The bottles jangled loudly, as she'd dropped them into the back of the car and she just caught the look of horror on Harry's face. It was only a glimpse, but there had been a reaction. He still cared about something she thought, even if it was only his stupid car. Maybe, just maybe they would be alright.

She'd let him go on ahead and carried up the bags. She kicked the front door shut behind her.

"Don't shut the door!" Harry cried running back to the door and opening it again. He stood by the open door, and waited as Nikki stared at him. Then after waiting another minute closed the door.

"What did we forget someone?" Nikki asked confused. But one look at Harry's face confirmed that she was not the only one in the room bringing a dead person back from Budapest with them.

'What had Leo said?' To expect him to be angry, and moody and to call Leo if she felt in anyway threatened by him. She sighed; you didn't get through med-school without spending some time studying the Kubler Ross* model of grief. She'd done the practical anyway and more than once. Harry hadn't got close to angry yet. He was way back in denial.

"I'll put the kettle on shall I?" Nikki asked.

She wasn't really expecting an answer and moved over to the kitchen area. Then as suddenly as she turned on the tap to fill the kettle, her tears came. 'Damn this open plan apartment' she thought. There was nowhere to hide. Harry hadn't seemed to notice her the rest of the day, so maybe he wouldn't notice now she thought, scrubbing at her tears.

"Nikki?" Harry asked quietly.

"I'm making you tea," she spluttered, utterly unable to disguise the emotion in her voice.

"I'm making you tea," she repeated as if it was the most earth shattering event.

"Nikki," he said sadly, crossing the room to stand next to her and take her hand.

"I thought, I thought…..you….were…..." she stammered.

"And now I'm stood here making you tea and you're…" she continued

"Shh," he said pulling her to him and wrapping an arm around her back.

"I'd prefer coffee, if that's not too much trouble," he said.

Nikki choked on a sob, and settled for a small sigh.

"This is going to be tough," she said looking into his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Harry replied but he didn't return her gaze.

* * *

_*The Kubler Ross Model of grief was developed in the late 60's after Elizabeth Kubler-Ross work with terminally ill patients showed a common set of emotions on dealing with their diagnosis. It showed that most people experience a number of stages as they deal with their own, or someone else's death, or even other losses, job etc. The stages include denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. The stages do not need to be sequential. More info on line, or if I'm upsetting you too much, or you have questions, feel free to drop me a PM. Sorry once a teacher always a teacher..._


	7. Chapter 7

**Seven**

"What day is it?" Harry asked, as he pushed some cheese and slices of tomato around his plate.

"Thursday," Nikki replied.

"Leo knows I won't be at work tomorrow."

"What about me?" Harry asked.

"There is no way he's going to let you anywhere near the Lyell Centre until he's satisfied you can cope."

"But I have to work Nikki, you know what it's like, I can't stay home and do nothing, I'll go mad." Harry was beginning to sound agitated.

"Harry, I know, but there is a lot to do first. We have to get you a new phone, we have to go and see your mother, see a dentist and we need someone other than Leo to take a look at your injuries. I can tell by the way you're walking that leg wound must be infected and you need some time to process what has happened." Nikki explained.

"You mean; I need to wait at least three weeks for the antidepressants to start working." Harry added spitefully.

"Harry! No one has said anything about medication, but short term it can be helpful after a traumatic event, to help get you back on the right path. But there's counselling and cognitive behaviour therapy and other useful treatments..."

"You never took them," Harry interrupted

"I, I..." she hesitated, thinking back to that little pot of pills on her bedside table. "I had help from my friends."

"And that's what you're planning on doing?" he said maliciously. "Helping?"

"How exactly to you propose to help me, I'm supposed to be a doctor for crying out loud, and I'm supposed to save people not get them killed. Do no harm and all the rest of the bullshit."

"We all killed a few patients in med school, it's obligatory," Nikki said, in a vain attempt to deflect his anger.

"This is not the same," he spat. "I hit a man on the head so hard I knocked him into a speeding lorry. And after I was sure he was dead, I shot him and I set him on fire and I know I would and could do it again. How can I live with that?" He stood up abruptly from the table, sending the plate clattering to the floor.

He walked over to the window, staring without seeing at the fading spring sunshine.

"It was in self-defence." Nikki said quietly.

"Not all of it, not the bits I enjoyed," he said as he turned to face her so she could see just how monstrous he was.

She hadn't forgiven him, he knew she hadn't. Back at the memorial after his little confession it was Leo who had come forward, squeezed his shoulder and offered his forgiveness. But not Nikki, she had just sat there, eyes wide, her face drawn, tired, unable to comprehend what he had said and unable to give him the absolution he craved. And nothing had changed now.

"What!" he shouted as she refused to be drawn into continuing the fight.

"Anger's good," she said.

Harry kicked the fallen plate into the wall, and shut himself in his room.


	8. Chapter 8

**Please someone correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm working on the principle that Harry does not have a spare room at his flat, I could well be wrong but heigh ho it's my story and all that.**

**Eight**

Nikki began to tidy away, and poured herself a glass of wine. Her hands were shaking so violently the wine spilled over the counter. How was she going to do this? They knew each other so well, fighting with Harry could be vicious and he could choose his words to cause maximum impact. She wasn't sure how long she'd be able to keep it up. Not without counselling, for herself anyway. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing, but there was no way she was going back to that bitch she saw before and she wasn't letting Harry see her either.

And what had started it all, some stupid love affair. Harry and one of his pretty young playthings, it made her sick. What kind of a girl gets pregnant with a stranger at a conference in Amsterdam? Someone who didn't care two hoots about the man she was undoubtedly tricking. Anna Sandor was a lawyer, she had to have a reasonable level of intelligence, and she must have known exactly what she was doing. And maybe later she started to care for him, love him even but by then biology would have taken over and true love would have had nothing to do with it. She walked over to the door, opened it, waited just as Harry had done and slammed it shut again. 'Good riddance' she thought and went back to the tidying up.

Harry must have heard the door bang and sheepishly came out of his room. She couldn't tell if he was relieved or not to find her still there.

"Sorry," he mumbled and flicked on the TV. He found a rerun of Top Gear somewhere and stared aimlessly at that. Nikki knew for a fact that Jeremy Clarkson really annoyed Harry so was surprised by his choice, but if you ignored the cars the scenery they were driving through was beautiful. She brought her wine over and placed another glass in front of him and sat down.

"Nikki, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he dragged his fingers through his hair.

"I'm sorry too," she said.

"Friends?" he said half raising the glass in the air.

"Friends," she agreed and drank.

Harry sipped his drink, and watched the TV silently. Not the comfortable kind of silence but the gaping void kind of silence. Nikki tucked her legs up under her and rested her head back on the cushions. Harry she noted was still in his 'disaster' position, all corners and sharp angles. She hated the silence, she tried to work out which was worse, the silence or the shouting. But her mind and body were exhausted and before long she was asleep.

She woke suddenly, to the most searing pain in her leg. She couldn't work out where she was and what was going on. She had never felt anything so excruciating. Had she been shot in the leg? No her dazed brain informed her. That was definitely Harry. She tried to move but that only seemed to make things worse and she couldn't stop herself gasping with the pain. Then all at once she felt herself being lifted.

"You fell asleep on your leg, it's probably cramp," she heard Harry's voice say through the gloom. She felt him carry her to the bedroom, lower her to the bed and start to rub at her calves. The thick fabric of her jeans just made the pain worse,

"Ouch Harry, that hurts!" she exclaimed.

Her brain was still trying to catch up, process where she was and what was going on, when she realised that Harry had taken off her shoes and was now in the process of removing her trousers.

"Can you get jeans any tighter?" she heard Harry mumbling.

"It's no wonder she's got cramp, lucky she's not got gangrene, I can't believe that leg ever gets a blood supply," he continued to ramble.

"Harry?" was all she could think of to say.

But before she had a chance to properly formulate a sentence that involved the words 'why' and 'undressing', Harry had started to rub at her cramping calf.

"Oww," she cried feeling the circulation return to her foot.

"Oww! Harry! That's good. Where did you learn to do that?" she asked the pain steadily dissipating.

"S'nothing," Harry mumbled again removing his hands from her leg and crossing to the chest of drawers. He threw a T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts onto the bed next to her.

"It's late," he said and disappeared into the bathroom.

She sat up on the bed, absent mindedly rubbing the leg that Harry had just been massaging. Maybe she had been wrong about him. Maybe he was still alive in there after all, she had seen glimpses today. It was enough anyway to inspire some hope and hope was about all she had left. She took off the rest of her clothes and placed them on a chair, put on the T-shirt and shorts and got back in the bed.

It wasn't much later she heard Harry switch off the bathroom light and make his way through the darkness to the bed.

'Surely he hasn't forgotten I'm here,' she wondered. And then thought,

'Perhaps he was expecting me to sleep on the couch?' She hadn't really expected he would sleep at all. And then

'What if he isn't planning on sleeping?'

But all she felt was the duvet flap as he climbed in and heard the words.

"It's cold on the couch."

* * *

**I know you're out there! Please review, I want to know if this only works in my imagination, or if you think it could be realistic too. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you, thank you lovely people but especially Lilypad, who doesn't even like angst! You're a star!**

**Nine**

She awoke with a start for the second time that night but this time she knew exactly where she was and exactly what was happening. She could feel Harry's body trembling in the space next to her. He was sitting with his head in his hands and elbows resting on his knees. He was doing nothing to disguise his sobbing.

Nikki lay still for a while, she didn't know if he even remembered she was right there next to him. But the sound of his distress tore at her own heart and she felt her own tears pricking at her eyes. She carefully and slowly sat up, just in case he had forgotten her and then manoeuvred herself behind him. She rested her face against his shoulder blade and wrapped her arms around him. It was a bizarre reflection of the way he had held her in Budapest but this time they both knew they couldn't turn to look into each other's eyes. Not yet, and not here, in the dark, in his bed.

"Why is my life so messed up?" he cried.

"Why for once in my life couldn't I have got it right?"

Nikki knew better than to offer platitudes, so she remained quiet, holding him tightly, anchoring him in her reality whilst he lost himself in the nightmare of his own.

After a while, she felt Harry's body begin to relax, and his tears stopped. She could feel her eyes getting heavy, and was worried that her leg would start cramping again if she didn't move soon, but she couldn't pull herself away from him.

"You should get some sleep," he whispered.

"You're sure?" she whispered back.

"Sure," he replied leaning forward to make it easier for her to move, and then laying back against the pillow.

She lay back on her side of the bed, and shivered as she pulled the now cold duvet up over her.

"Come here" Harry said, reaching an arm around her waist and pulling her against him.

"Go back to sleep," he whispered and placed an almost imperceptible kiss on the back of her head.

"I'm here if you need me," she murmured back.

She felt herself drifting back to sleep, Harry's arm encircling her waist. Whatever was happening here, between them, seemed almost as dangerous as their trip to Budapest. But here in the darkness, she had found her Harry, she caught herself mumbling an unformulated thank you prayer. Maybe it wasn't just his body she had brought back with her after all? She lay still, revelling in the feel of his warmth behind her, the touch of his chest rising and falling against her back and the scent of his after shave on the sheets.

Here in the darkness, they were together.

'But what would the daylight bring?' she wondered.


	10. Chapter 10

**Ten**

She needn't have worried. By the time she'd woken up, there was no sign of Harry in the bedroom at all. She got dressed quickly and found him sitting at the kitchen counter half a mug of cold coffee in front of him, looking as if someone had pressed pause on the remote control and then disappeared and never come back.

"Have you been awake long?" she asked

"..Bit," came the monosyllabic answer.

There was no sign of the Harry she had shared the bed with. The one who cared enough to look after her when she was hurting, or who offered to share the warm space in the bed with her? Maybe that was how it was going to be she theorised. She refilled the kettle and switched it on. If that were true then there would probably be a whole lot more shouting to get through before it got dark again and today she had to get him to a doctors and to make arrangements to see his mother.

The entry buzzer sounded. Nikki pressed the intercom and heard Leo's voice.

"I brought breakfast."

Nikki clicked the door release and smiled. It would be good to have Leo for some company she thought.

She opened the door to Leo, and found herself swamped in a big hug of Leo's arms and shopping bags.

"Breakfast?" she said.

"How many were you planning on catering for?" she continued as she shut the door.

Harry got up stiffly, reopened the door stood there for a while and then closed it again and went and sat back down. Leo looked worriedly at Nikki, who just shrugged her shoulders.

"Maybe some of Harry's ghosts are hungry too," she said by way of explanation. There was a stunned pause whilst Leo and Nikki waited for Harry to react, but instead he seemed not even to have noticed.

"Did he get any sleep?" Leo asked concernedly.

"Long enough for the nightmares to find him," Nikki replied truthfully.

"And you?" Leo looked at Nikki.

"Actually the night was better than I was expecting," she said.

"I can stop for a while, do you want to go home, and collect some…" Leo hesitated

"erm things you might need."

"That would be great Leo. Thanks. Harry, do you mind if I go and collect some stuff? I won't be long," Nikki asked.

For a while Harry didn't say anything, but finally nodded his assent. Nikki quickly collected up the bags she had taken to Budapest and went to the door.

"You'll be needing a key," Harry said, getting up and opening one of the kitchen drawers. Leo was so surprised he dropped the milk he was unloading from the bag, and was very grateful for the invention of plastic milk bottles.

"Thanks," replied Nikki, taking the key out of his upturned palm. She opened the door, and looked across to Harry, making eye contact for the first time that day. She held the door open until he cued her to shut it again, then reopened it, looked back to Harry who was nodding slowly and looking relieved, and shut the door behind her.

On the other side of the door she rested her head back against the wood, and found herself breathing heavily. It felt almost like she was a prisoner released from captivity. She thought back to the previous night, remembering the feel of Harry's arm around her waist. He was still there, wasn't he? Her Harry. She hadn't imagined the events of last night, had she? He was just lost still, and she had promised to bring him home. They would get through this; they would have to get through this.


	11. Chapter 11

**Eleven**

In all that had been happening over the last few days, Nikki had forgotten the state she had left her apartment in. The place was a wreck. It should have been her place of rest and comfort but now it looked more like a tornado had hit it. She had not taken Leo's news well that day. All she could think about was getting to Budapest, so that Leo could tell her it was all some dreadful mistake.

She slumped to the floor and found she was shivering. She would have to clean the place up, and it wasn't going to be quick. She pulled out her phone and texted Leo.

"Sorry, might take a bit longer than I thought, call if you need me."

She'd made headway with the clothes, and then she moved onto the kitchen. There was broken crockery everywhere. Her phone rang, and she checked the clock, how long had she been?

"Nikki? It's Anne. Harry's mum" the voice on the phone said.

"Hello," Nikki replied.

"Look, Nikki, I don't want to worry you, but have you seen Harry? I was expecting to hear from him,"

"Oh, Anne, I'm so sorry, I left Harry with Leo about an hour ago. He's ok, but he's…" Nikki wasn't sure how to carry on. It was only a couple of days ago that the two of them were having a very different phone conversation. 'A shadow of his former self, a wreck, distraught, lost?,' which one did you offer to a woman who thought her son was dead and you were the one who had broken the news to her?"

"Don't worry dear, I can imagine, as long as someone is with him," she said kindly.

"And how are you Nikki?" she continued.

"I'm …. holding up," Nikki replied. There was no point in telling Mrs Cunningham she was fine. She wouldn't believe it any more than Harry ever did.

"Perhaps you could ask Harry to call me, if he's up to it," Anne asked quietly.

"I will, I will, I would have done it this morning, only…."

"Nikki, it's ok." Anne interrupted her. "It's ok." she repeated. And the inflection in her voice was just the same as her son's and Nikki found herself in tears on the phone to Harry's mother for the second time in almost as many days.

"How do you do this?" Nikki sniffed.

"You do it because you have to, you do it because you love them and because I've already buried a husband, a lover and at my time of life, a number of my close friends, but I will not be burying my son this week. I know whatever blackness has overrun him at the moment. He will come back. We will find him. I've had to do it before, you know. Come for lunch on Sunday, the two of you, and bring some of his things, we'll see if we can get him to stay with me for a day or two, to give you a break."

"Thank you," Nikki sniffed again.

Nikki swept the mess on the floor quickly into the bin, taking no notice as to what was salvageable. Refilled her bags with clean clothes, some toiletries her curling iron and some other essentials and ran back to Harry's car. She heard her phone beep, as she pulled on her seat belt and knew it would be Leo, wondering when she was coming back. Leo and Harry's relationship was built on irreverence, humour and trust. Harry was not scoring well on any of the categories at the moment and she knew Leo would be suffering.

She made one stop on the way home, there was a gym near to Harry's flat. She'd driven past it loads of times, it was one of those chains, with fancy lights and trendy lettering. If she could get Harry to go to the gym every day, she'd be able to stop him festering completely in his flat. If he carried on as he was, he would be unable to return to work for a while, and a trip to the gym every day would at least give him some structure to the day. He could also work off some of his anger. There must be something to hit there.

"I'd like my friend to join your gym," Nikki said to the receptionist.

"You'll need to fill in this form if you can, and we need credit card details." The receptionist said. She had one of those American white teeth smiles and was passably attractive, in an early 20's kind of a way. She was probably on some poster somewhere advertising the place, looking healthy and fit. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard to convince Harry to go. Not once he had taken a look at the staff. She wondered what the personal trainers looked like.

The form was easy, name, address date of birth etc. The credit card details were trickier. Nikki's phone beeped again.

"Look, I have to go now. Can I phone through the rest of details?" Nikki asked.

"That'll be fine, and you'll need to book an orientation interview. Here's all the information and our pricing guide."

Nikki grabbed all the literature and raced back to the car, texting Leo as she ran to say she was only five minutes away.


	12. Chapter 12

**Twelve**

Nikki used her key to open the door. Leo looked as if he'd been pacing up and down and Harry was fighting for breath on the sofa. Despite the scene Nikki remembered to leave the door open for a while before closing it.

"What's wrong with him?" Nikki asked Leo.

"He was fine, for the first hour and then when you didn't answer the phone, he seemed to lose the plot. It's just a panic attack," Leo explained.

"I'm so sorry, I was driving, I was as quick as I could," Leo could hear the panic rising in Nikki's voice.

She crossed to the sofa and sat down next to Harry. He pulled her against him, wrapping his arms tightly round her, and wordlessly held her against him.

Leo placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I really need to get to the office, will you be ok?" he asked.

Harry's breathing was returning to normal.

"We'll be fine Leo, I'll see if I can get someone to take a look at Harry's leg. I'm sure it's infected." Nikki said, although her voice was muffled by Harry's shoulder.

"I'll let myself out," Leo said.

"Door!" called Harry.

Leo dutifully held the door wide open, and looked back at the pair on the sofa, before closing the door sadly.

"You really think it's infected?" Harry asked after what seemed like an age.

"I think it would be wise to have it looked at," Nikki replied.

"Will you come with me?" he asked into her hair.

She nodded against his chest.

Harry fell asleep in the car on the way back from the hospital; the whole trip had exhausted him. The waiting, the endless recounting of the details, the other people in the waiting room, being in a crowd really made him nervous. There had been no trouble convincing the doctor to write the prescription for the antibiotics, but he had seemed rather uneasy about the fact that it was a gunshot wound. Reporting them involved rather a lot of paperwork apparently. Nikki had convinced him that all the documentation had been dealt with in Hungary. The medic obviously didn't believe her but looked distinctly relieved, and wrote down a name and address for her.

"He gave you his number?" muttered Harry as they walked arm in arm back to the car. "Incredible!"

"Jealous?" asked Nikki, delighted at another little glimpse of her Harry.

"Of course!" he admitted.

"Actually it's for you," she replied.

"He's not my type," said Harry seriously.

"No, silly, it's the number of a therapist he highly recommends,"

"Oh," said Harry sadly and slipped back into the silence.

Now back at Harry's flat, Nikki didn't know what to do. Should she wake him when he finally seemed to be sleeping? Should she stay and wait for him to wake up? She'd been waiting all day. Waiting for his panic attack to pass, waiting at the hospital, she couldn't face sitting in his car in the underground parking for him to wake up. It was creepy and it smelt.

Harry was beginning to mumble in his sleep. It sounded a bit like 'shh,' she really didn't need this. If Harry woke up screaming or crying as he had from his nightmare last night, being stuck in the car, two storeys down was really the last place she wanted to be.

"Harry, we're home, you can wake up now," she said gently.

"Harry, it's Nikki, it's time to wake up, we're home," she tried, a bit louder this time.

She reached over a touched his arm.

"Harry, it's me, wake up!"

And then suddenly as if a switch was flipped he was wide awake and fully alert. He looked round to get his bearings, and only when he realised where he was and who he was with did he seem to start breathing again.

"Whoa, Harry, steady are you alright?" Nikki asked.

"Yes, no, I don't know. I think I was dreaming, " Harry gabbled.

"You told me, you never remembered your dreams," Nikki said, relishing the chance for a conversation.

"I remember this one; it was so vivid, so real. There was crying." Harry continued.

'Well that would explain the 'sh' noise he was making,' Nikki thought.

"Who was crying? Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

"I tried everything, I couldn't get it to stop, the crying, it just went on and on," Harry rambled.

"But who was crying? Was it Anna?" Nikki asked cautiously.

"No, not Anna… it was the baby. I was looking after her, I was on my own, and she just wouldn't stop crying. I tried everything, I'd fed her, changed her. I'd bounced her and carried her on my shoulder and she wouldn't stop. And I felt so powerless, she was so tiny but so strong willed and she wouldn't stop, she just wouldn't stop. I didn't know what to do." Harry explained.

Nikki's stomach lurched; she really didn't like the direction this was heading in.

"And then I moved her off my shoulder and somehow she snuggled into my neck, and suddenly she stopped. And it was so quiet, so quiet although I could still feel her little body hitching, despite the fact that she was asleep and my chin was rough and I was sure I would scratch her head but she just wouldn't let me move her. And…" Harry broke off and looked over at Nikki. Even in the gloom of the underground car park he could see the tears rolling down her face.

"Oh Nikki, I'm sorry I shouldn't have... it was only a stupid dream. It's not real is it? What do I know about babies? No one would leave me in charge, I'm sorry. Please. Don't cry," he soothed.

"No more crying, please," he repeated, wiping the tears away with his thumb.

"Please, he begged."

* * *

**There is a reason I'm torturing Harry so... I'm sure you lovely people will figure it out...let me know ;)**


	13. Chapter 13

**With love to all my fellow angst devotees, but especially Ann1119 and Lilypad you're both awesome and seeing the story reflected back by your reviews is amazing. Thank you. **

**Top Gear and Jeremy Clarkson also belong to BBC, Scrubs to NBC and ABC Studios**

**Thirteen**

Nikki had found enough food in the bags Leo had left to make a meal. Well, bacon sandwiches and salad. That counted as a meal though, didn't it? She was surprised that Harry had tidied up, she hadn't asked him to. She found it curious that the parts of their relationship that worked so well were all the parts where they didn't need to speak to each other at all. They were a good team in that respect, it was instinct. But now she couldn't help wondering what was going to happen later.

Yesterday Harry had joined her in his bed, another milestone passed with barely a word of explanation. Just "it's cold," to describe what to most couples was a fairly hefty development in a relationship. But was it? They may have slept together, but it was just that, sleeping and Harry was gone long before Nikki was awake, she guessed he wasn't much of a man for pillow talk.

Would he even say anything today, or just take it as a given? And did she even want to talk about it? The prospect of sleeping with Harry's arm protectively and innocently around her waist was very tempting. If she could convince herself it was for his benefit; so he wouldn't be worried when he woke up crying, maybe she wouldn't feel quite such a fraud. She thought back to the scene in the car, it wasn't Harry who had been crying then. She thought about his strange dream? He had never seemed like a man who was desperate for a family, or was that just a safety mechanism? So he could shield himself from the prospect of failure.

'Damn Anna,' Nikki thought again what a stupid thing to do.

Harry was staring at the TV again. 'At least it wasn't Clarkson today,' Nikki thought. It looked like Scrubs. They were all being mean to Doug the pathologist, and there was a ghost of an impression of a smile on Harry's face.

Nikki handed him a glass of water and one of his antibiotics.

"Thanks," he said, rolling the pill around in his fingers.

"So I joined the gym today, did I?" he asked.

"Yes, you did, is that okay?" Nikki asked and then quickly added. "You haven't really joined, as I needed your credit card details, and I don't know them off by heart… yet!"

Harry stared at her and realised she was joking.

"Ah, there is something she doesn't know about me," he smiled.

"I thought it might erm, give you something to do, a bit of a focus," she said shyly.

"I will agree to go to the gym every day, and you can phone and check up on me if you like, I don't care. On one condition, no more pills, just these ones."

"Deal," she said.

"Deal," he replied.

"Some friend you are, you could have given them your credit card details," he teased.

Nikki laughed.

"Thanks for today," Harry said more seriously.

"Niks," he began nervously.

"I know," she replied. "It's cold on the couch."


	14. Chapter 14

**Fourteen**

Saturday dawned and Nikki woke up alone again. Just as she suspected, there had been no awkwardness when they had gone to bed. Harry had said that he just wanted to watch the news, and had left her to get changed and ready. Then later he'd come through to the bedroom himself, taken a bath, changed and got in beside her. There had been no nightmares that Nikki was aware of, and for the first time she actually felt rested.

She was amazed that the clock said nine o'clock. She never slept that long.

"Harry!" She called "Does this clock work. Is it really nine o'clock?"

When there was no reply, she leapt out of the bed to look for him. There was no sign of him anywhere. He had no phone so she couldn't call him. She suddenly realised how terrified Harry must have been yesterday when she hadn't returned. What a pair they made, they were both as messed up as each other. She went back into the bedroom and spotted the note he'd left her on the bedside table. She smiled as she looked at his left handed scrawl.

"Gone to check out this gym thing. H."

She put the kettle on and was startled by her phone ringing. Her first thought was that it would be Harry's mum again. She still hadn't managed to get him to call her, or mention that they were both due for lunch tomorrow.

"Hello," she answered nervously.

"Hello," replied the professional voice.

"I'm trying to reach Nikki Alexander,"

"Who is this?" Nikki asked, irritated that someone was interrupting her Saturday morning to sell her something she undoubtedly didn't want.

"I'm sorry to bother you, only I'm calling from Star Fitness Gym's," the voice continued.

"Look I'm really not in the mood right now for you to try and sell me a gym membership," Nikki replied crossly.

"No, I'm not selling anything, please listen it's urgent, it's about your partner."

"I don't have a…." Nikki began, when the truth finally dawned on her. "Has something happened to Harry? What has he done?"

"I'm afraid your partner has been taken.. erm …ill, is there any chance you could come and collect him." The receptionist explained.

"What exactly is he doing?" Nikki asked.

"Well he was on the running machine, and then all of a sudden he stopped and seemed to collapse. He won't let anyone near him. He's conscious and doesn't appear to be suffering any erm physical problems. He's not having a heart attack, we made sure of that but he won't move. It doesn't look good for the other clients to have him sat there like that."

"How did you get this number?" Nikki asked again.

"Your name and details were on one of his forms under partner's details, have I done the wrong thing?"

"No, you did fine. Thank you for calling me. I'll come over as quickly as I can," and with that Nikki hung up.

#######

When she arrived, she could see why the gym staff needed Harry moved. The glass windows of the reception area looked into the gym itself. And there was Harry front and centre, sat on the floor, head in his hands, rocking ever so slightly.

"Harry, it's Nikki, you're safe now," she said quietly. She had tried to approach him from the side, so he had had a chance to see her coming.

"Harry, I've come to take you home, can I help you up?" she said as she squatted down next to him.

"I can't do this!" he cried, looking deep into her eyes and revealing his tear stained face.

"What's wrong with me?" he asked reaching out to her shoulder and shaking it.

"Stand up with me Harry," she said forcefully. "We are going to walk out of here together and it is going to be ok." Her tone left no room for dissent and Harry did as he was told.

They paused in the reception area and Nikki went to speak to the receptionist.

"Do you know why he was on the running machine?"

"Oh, until he's completed his orientation we only let clients on the runners or the bikes." She replied.

"Maybe you could suggest the bike if he ever comes back," Nikki said frostily.

"I'll write it on his training card," she said, grateful he was going to be out of the way before the big Saturday morning rush.

As soon as they were home, Harry took himself off to the bedroom and curled up on the bed. She couldn't help noticing that on the journey home he had been checking the mirrors. Looking undoubtedly to make sure no one was following them. She slumped down on the couch and wondered how they were going to manage when she had to go back to work.


	15. Chapter 15

**Fifteen**

Harry was running. He could feel the sweat trickling down his back, and the sticky coldness of the blood over the front of his shirt as it clung to his chest. Her blood, all over him. He had to keep running. Running to find the killer, running away from the killer, running to find Anna, running away from her. He had to keep running, just keep running.

His head was pounding, and the light was dancing at the edges of his vision, 'must keep running ,' he told himself but his body was rebelling and he had to stop, to draw breath, to replace the oxygen, where could he go? He started running again, but in his mind the places he was running to were jumbled and chaotic. One minute he was in Budapest, the next London, and then down by the Danube, by the side of the Thames. The faces too were disorganised, Janos, Anna, her killer, Marina Leo. And then he was falling and tumbling, he could hear screaming and he crumpled himself into the smallest shape he could and waited.

"Harry, Harry, you've been dreaming," he heard. He felt arms reach around him and he leant into their embrace.

"It was just a dream," the voice said again.

"Anna!" cried Harry, turning round to face the woman who had rescued him and kissing her passionately, but wildly on the lips.

"Harry stop!" he heard between kisses.

"Harry it's not Anna, you're dreaming. Open your eyes Harry, it's me, Nikki!"

Harry pushed the woman away from him and opened his eyes. It was Nikki, her chin rubbed red by his stubble and her eyes full of tears. But if that was Nikki then where was Anna?

"Anna?" he called again, dazedly wondering why he was in bed with Nikki.

"Harry, stop please!" Nikki cried covering her ears with her hands.

"That bit wasn't the dream, Anna died, Harry. Do you remember? She was killed. She's not here, she's dead" her voice trailed away into quietness.

The full weight of the horror of her death shook Harry's body again. Nikki closed her eyes; she couldn't bear to see another part of his soul collapsing in on itself.

"I'm sorry Harry," Nikki mumbled.

"Why didn't I listen to her? Why couldn't I tell her how I felt? Why do I never seem to get a break? I just wish I could talk to her, explain, see her again. I hate this!" Harry yelled and threw one of the pillows from the bed across the room. It made a dull thud as it hit the chest of drawers causing it to wobble. It didn't fall but rocked enough to knock Nikki's toiletry bag off the top, which then crashed to the floor.

Harry stopped for a moment and looked at Nikki.

"I've hurt you," he said sadly, looking at her bruised lips and reaching out to stroke her cheek to wipe away yet more of her tears.

"I think you should probably go," he said even more sadly.

Nikki stared at him horror struck.

"No Harry, stop, it was my fault. I should have told you who I was, you weren't to know. You were having a nightmare. You've not hurt me and I'm not leaving you," she replied the tears flowing even faster now.

"But it's only a matter of time," Harry mumbled.

"What!" cried Nikki, her sadness changing to anger.

"How dare you say it's only a matter of time before I leave you. You know nothing! Harry I've just got you back, why would I leave you?" she shouted.

"Why would you stay?" he asked vehemently. "Look at me!"

"Anyway," he continued quietly after an angry pause where they had just stared into each other's eyes. "That's not what I meant. I meant it was only a matter of time before I hurt you, I think it's best if you go before I destroy you too."

"Harry, I can't leave you, I won't leave you and anyway I promised to take you to your mothers for lunch tomorrow and I wouldn't dare piss off your mother, not this week, so I'm afraid you're stuck with me," she seemed pleased by this little speech.

Harry sat still for a while, struggling to calm his temper and his breathing.

"Any other part of my life you've sorted out for me while I've been trapped in the nightmare from Hell?" Harry asked, feeling calmer than he had for a while, despite the news he was having lunch with his mother tomorrow.

"Well actually, I got you a dentist appointment for Monday and have tried to sort you out a new phone, but your name's on the paperwork, so I couldn't do it all, we have to ring them back," Nikki rattled off.

"I don't deserve you," Harry said sincerely.

"No, you don't," she replied breezily. "Now are we going to sort out this phone or what? I made sure this one had a GPS tracker so I'll always know where you are!" She wondered how she could outwardly sound so calm when internally she was reeling, from the feel of Harry's lips on her own, and from the fear that he would send her away.

"Nikki?" Harry asked nervously.

"Yes?" she replied.

"Have you still got that number the doctor gave you yesterday?" he said.

"The therapist?" Nikki asked carefully.

"Do you think you could make me an appointment to see him…..please?" Harry asked.

Nikki looked up at him, this was a huge step on Harry's part and she didn't want him to miss how much she realised this. So she held his gaze for as long as she dared before replying.

"Of course."


	16. Chapter 16

**Sixteen**

Harry was quiet for the rest of the afternoon. He'd managed to convince the phone company that his phone had been stolen and broken; which was true in that Janos had snatched it from his hands and then stamped on it. Whatever? He didn't care as long as he had a phone. There would be no messages from Anna on this one, no photos of the two of them together, so really what did it matter if it had some latest new feature. He'd managed to hold onto his number so at least there was a chance of rebuilding his contacts again.

Nikki was quiet too, he'd noticed. He couldn't believe he'd kissed her this morning, even if he had been confused. She was acting as if everything was fine of course. It was the way she was, but he knew it would be nagging at her self-esteem. 'The only time he makes a move on me is when he thinks I'm another woman,' is what she was probably thinking. Kissing her like that had to be near the top of the list of hateful things to do to your best friend. Especially when she had spent the last two nights in bed with him in attempt to ward off the evil that denied him his rest. He just didn't know how to make it up to her, what to say? This whole thing made his brain swim.

'I would have loved Anna,' he thought.

'Wouldn't I?'

It was only a matter of timing; that must be it. Before everything started, before he even knew about the baby, he thought he could stay in Budapest, with her. Spend his life with her, work for the cause she was so passionate about, didn't he? He couldn't remember; his memory was so clouded by the fear and the horror.

"I must have loved her,' he decided. 'Otherwise I wouldn't have done those things.'

'Would I?'

Was that really his definition of love, to know that if someone took his loved one away from him, he would not rest until that someone had felt the full wrath of his vengeance?

'I wouldn't have shot that man, like that if I hadn't loved her?' It went against every ounce of his medical training, his integrity, everything he spent his life doing.

'That was for love.'

'Wasn't it?'

Marina's words about a guilty conscience nagged at his thoughts again. If Marina was right, it wasn't about love at all. It was all about his rage and his anger. Which made his revenge all about his self-hatred; for not being there to protect her?

So if he wasn't in love with her, why was he such a mess?

'I must have loved her,' he concluded.

'But had she really loved him?' his whirling brain asked now. Her father hadn't thought so. Did she just use him because she wanted a child?

He looked up to find Nikki staring at him.

"Are you alright? You haven't moved for over an hour!" she said.

"I was just thinking," he replied.

"I was trying to work out.. Oh never mind," he said. He couldn't burden Nikki with any more today. She really didn't want to discuss the definition of love with him. He needed her to be his haven from all the madness. She didn't need to know that behind all this pain, anger and anguish was the nagging fear that all this had happened not because of some pure motivation of love on his part but his old demon of self-loathing.

"Why did Anna and I fight?" he asked no one in particular.

"Maybe you didn't like her so much after all," Nikki replied flippantly.

Harry sucked in air and stared back at her. For him the comment wasn't flippant at all. It struck right to the heart of his biggest fear. She didn't mean it, she couldn't have meant it, she hadn't known what he had just been thinking about.

"How can you say that?" Harry asked. But he suspected the answer went something along the lines of 'I have been there for you, every day for the last seven years, through thick through thin and now I have done everything to make you safe again, and I'm repaid by you acting like an idiot.' He hid his face in his hands.

"It could have all been so different," he said.

"Yes it could," he could hear Nikki's voice, she was doing nothing to disguise her anger, it was the voice she used for their best fights at work, full of self-conviction and self-righteousness. It made him so passionate to defend his corner. It was the way they challenged each other, it brought out his determination to see the facts clearly and to find the truth. He raised his head to see which version of the truth she was about to lead him to.

"I am glad you fought," she began fervently. "And I am glad you stayed up on the roof, and I'm glad you were just stood there, drinking beer and admiring the view whilst Anna struggled for breath." She sucked in a breath of her own and scrutinized his face.

"And do you want to know why I am glad?" she continued, her eyes flashing.

Harry didn't dare interrupt, she was as wild as a force of nature when she was like this, he just had to hang on and weather the storm.

"I'm glad, really glad," she said venomously. "Because if you had been there with her; if you hadn't fought; then you would have been murdered right there, alongside her. You would have both been stabbed or shot, but you would both have been dead and we would not be having this stupid fight now! I'm not glad about the pain, and the suffering and you're….. issues.. But there is no way I could stand back and say that I could be glad that you were dead, so I don't want to hear about it anymore. Do you understand?" she thundered.

"I think I do," he said honestly.

_**Away for the weekend, without the children (hooray for me) and without computer (boo for you) so no more until Tuesday. Your challenge is to match the number of reviews to my imminent new age, (born same year as Tom Ward) I know you can do it! And feel free to tell me I'm a depressing crackpot, I know some of you must think it!**_


	17. Chapter 17

**Ah you're all so kind, 38 reviews… you knocked 2 years off me. (I'm the same age as TW not Harry!)**

**Seventeen**

In an effort to improve the atmosphere in his flat, Harry decided he would try and make dinner. He toyed with the idea of calling out for a takeaway but he didn't really want to eat it and he didn't think it really said 'sorry,' as well as something home cooked. The problem was that Leo's enormous breakfast hamper, was finished. If he wanted to cook dinner, he would have to leave the flat. After this morning's escapade at the gym, he wasn't sure that going out was a good move. But if he didn't run to the shop and just walked, calmly, he could do it. He had to be able to do it.

"Nikki!" he called. "I'm just popping out for some food."

Nikki had immersed herself in the computer, Harry doubted she had been working, but he had been glad of the distance it had created between them.

"Do you want me to come with you?" she asked.

Harry hesitated.

"Actually, Nikki that would be really nice, maybe we could walk through the park," he suggested.

"I'll grab my bag," she said.

Harry made sure he was the one to close the door, which he did with his new style. Outside in the hallway they met a Japanese couple.

"Hello," they said. "We sub-letting the flat next door, for the summer, nice to meet you."

"Harry Cunningham, I'm pleased to meet you," said Harry.

"Please to meet you too," they said, unable to suppress a small bow and scurried away.

Nikki looked across at Harry, he didn't seem to be at all phased by meeting the strangers. Maybe the worst was over for the day.

It was good to be out in the late spring sunshine and as they walked across the park they fell into step easily. For the first time, she sensed Harry relax slightly. His body moved with its usual customary ease and he kept close to her as he always did.

"Nikki," Harry said, linking his arm through hers. "I'm really sorry about today."

There was a long pause before she looked up. Harry waited, dreading her response. The last thing he wanted to do was upset and hurt Nikki, yet despite everything it seemed to be the only thing he did do. As he looked down into her eyes he was surprised to see a faint smile and hint of a sparkle.

"Which bit?" she asked. "The bit where I had to haul your ass off the floor of the gym, the bit where you mistook me for you're girlfriend, broke some of my very expensive make up, I had to organise your life for you? Or when I told you I was glad your girlfriend was dead?"

He didn't break step, or turn to look at her, just kept his arm linked in hers, edging her closer if that were possible.

"All of it," he said seriously. "And you never said you were glad my girlfriend was dead," he added.

"Thanks," Nikki replied purposely bumping her hip into him as they walked.

Outside the shop there was a group of youths, standing around with their bikes. Nikki felt Harry stiffen as soon as he noticed the hoodies and felt him slow down.

"It's going to be ok," Nikki whispered to him.

"They're just talking about the football," she used her arm that was linked through his to tug him forward, but she could feel him shaking.

She felt her stomach lurch not only was Harry suffering so much from this misplaced anxiety but he would be castigating himself for his reactions and making himself feel even worse.

"I don't think I can go in," Harry whispered, his voiced strained and panicked.

"Well I'm not leaving you outside!" Nikki said forthrightly and dragged him towards the door. The boys moved to let them through but even so one accidentally bumped into Harry's shoulder.

"Oh, sorry mate," the boy said.

"Blimey are you alright?" he continued when he saw Harry's whiter than white face.

"Does he need to see a doctor?" the boy asked Nikki concernedly.

"Oh, I am a doctor," she said breezily. "He'll be alright with me," and she pulled Harry into the shop.


	18. Chapter 18

**Eighteen**

They had cooked dinner together in the end. The incident with the hoodies, had shocked Harry back into his silent world. But they hardly needed to speak as they set to work, instinctively sharing the tasks, and using their own brand of eye contact telepathy when necessary. As soon as they had cleared away and sat down on the sofa, Harry pulled Nikki into a hug. He continued to sit silently, holding her, clinging on like a little child with his favourite blanket.

Nikki was exhausted again. In a way it was good to feel Harry's arms around her, but instead of feeling like a warm embrace, it felt as if he was squeezing the life out of her and into him. Almost as if by some weird osmosis he could gain some of her strength. But where did that leave her? She barely had enough strength to get through the day herself; if Harry carried on like this she would be sucked dry, her own life withering to resurrect his. Maybe that was to be her penance for having him back?

"Tomorrow," said Harry after a while. "I don't really want my mother knowing about the baby. Do you mind if I don't tell her. Just give her the edited highlights of the trip?"

"Tell her what you like Harry, and I will go along with it but I'm not lying to her for you, not if she asks me something directly, and I've already told her some of it." Nikki replied.

"Thank you," he said, and hoped it covered more than just an appropriate response to Nikki's last statement.

Their now established bedtime routine remained the same. Harry left her to get ready, and then took a bath as he still couldn't shower because of his leg. He felt ridiculous with his leg dangled over the side of the bath, but he relished the feel of the scalding water burning away the evidence of the last few days. He then lay down silently next to her. He concentrated on the sound of her breathing to relax him, if he focused entirely on that sound he could suppress his fear of the nightmares to come, and drift off to sleep.

#######

Nikki woke up to a loud crash and a shout of pain. She immediately switched on the light.

"Harry?" she called quietly. He was not in the bed, but the noise had sounded really close.

"Harry?" she called again, a bit louder this time.

"Where are you?"

She noticed something moving at the edge of the bed, and was surprised to see Harry's face appear.

"Harry? What are you doing?" Nikki's mind whirred as she tried to work out what had happened.

"Did you just fall out the bed?" she asked, unable to stop a small chuckle.

"Oh, yes laugh, go ahead," Harry said with a pout and ran his hands through his hair, making himself look even more ridiculous.

"I landed on my leg; I think I've reopened the wound," he said more seriously.

Nikki rolled across and peered over the edge of the bed on to the floor. He was right, and the blood was making a mess.

"Do you want me to stitch that for you?" she asked.

"Maybe? Check the bathroom cabinet, all the stuff I have is in there," he said grimly.

Nikki re-cleaned the wound and it didn't look quite so bad. She found some steri strips and absorbent gauze and dressed his leg.

"Do you do that often?" she asked as she was working.

"What? Get shot at? I try not to make a habit of it," he said.

"No," she laughed. "Fall out of the bed!"

"Oh, what and you've never fallen out of the bed, Miss High and Mighty?" Harry asked.

"Not since I finished pre-school, Harry. No," she replied.

"I was dreaming," Harry admitted and then looked embarrassed.

"It didn't seem to be a nightmare," Nikki continued for him.

"No, I was on the edge of the bed because…" he stopped.

"Go on," Nikki encouraged.

"I was on the edge of the bed, because the baby was in the middle, and she was asleep and I didn't want to roll over and squash her. But she turned to sleep across the bed and her feet were pedalling against my arm, and so I tried to move away but.."

"Oh Harry!" was all Nikki could say.

But Harry hadn't missed the look of pain that had crossed her face. He hoped these dreams would stop soon, because they seemed to really upset Nikki. He would have to be careful what he told her about them. He wondered how he felt about them. He had never really wanted a child, but this little girl that he met in his dreams. She was different. She was his. She loved him.


	19. Chapter 19

**So we are almost cranked to the top of the roller coaster now, if you've hung on this long, congratulations; it's all downhill from here just the twists and turns of the ride to go. I have to beg one more indulgence of you, with my characterization of Mrs Cunningham, I think it works but I would, I wrote it. Genuinely I would love to know what you think, and don't be afraid to tell me I'm wrong! (It's more the next chapter than this one, before you all suspect I'm a complete nut but they run on from each other, I just split it to avoid the world's longest chapter.)**

**Nineteen**

Lunch with Mrs Cunningham, was better than Nikki had anticipated. Anne was an indefatigable woman who was not given to graphic displays of emotion. She was more old school British grit and with good reason. She had hugged her son, when she had answered the door and simply said,

"So good to see you, Harry. I'm sorry to hear about Anna. Come on in."

She had kissed Nikki on the cheek and greeted her with,

"Thank you dear, make yourself at home," and that had been that. She didn't fail to notice the way that Harry had closed the door though.

There had been no cross examinations or reprimands of the 'how could you let your own mother think you were dead!' style. It was business as usual and Nikki was relieved.

"Will you be able to go to her funeral?" Anne had asked innocently.

Harry looked up. He obviously hadn't even thought about the funeral.

"The British Embassy in Hungary advised all of us to keep out of Hungary for the foreseeable future, so we won't be able to go," Nikki interjected.

Harry seemed to take that news reasonably well. What was he thinking? He'd nearly had a heart attack walking to Tesco, yesterday. There was no way he would manage Budapest.

"Do you want me to go?" Anne asked.

Harry just stared at his mother, stunned by her generosity.

"I'm not sure anyone with the Cunningham name would be received that well at the funeral," Nikki said sagely. "It's a very kind offer, but if Harry agrees, I think it's probably safer if you stay in England." Nikki could see Harry looking crushed so quickly added.

"I'm sure Marina, or Agnes would be happy to represent you, Harry."

He nodded his head sadly and asked his mother how the Bridge club was doing.

Nikki was looking forward to going back to her own apartment and letting Anne take the strain for a day or two. Now she had seen her she was sure Anne wasn't going to try and make Harry talk about his experiences or his emotions if he didn't want to, and this being Harry he wouldn't want to. It was good to sit and eat in comfortable surroundings and not be constantly fearful of what the next outburst from Harry would bring.

Harry too, had been trying very hard. She would hardly label him chatty, but he had removed the thick cloak of silence that he shrouded himself in. The familiarity of the house obviously helped. He had made no fuss about the idea of staying with his mother either. It had been simple really. Nikki had told him that she had to go to work on Monday, and it was either stay on his own or stay with his mother. Even he recognised it was not the time to be by himself.

After lunch Harry sat and turned the pages of the weekend paper.

"Perhaps you could help me with the dishes, Nikki?" Anne had asked.

"So how do you think he's doing?" Anne had asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

Nikki didn't know how to answer again. She really didn't want to lie to this woman, but at the same time she didn't want to hurt her feelings. However if Harry was going to spend the night under her roof, she would find out for herself soon enough.

At Nikki's hesitation, Anne began talking.

"I'm imagining he's not sleeping well,"

Nikki nodded in response. She kept her eyes focused on the dish water to steady her nerves.

"Nightmares?" asked Anne.

Nikki nodded again.

"And the thing with the door..."

'Did the woman miss anything?' Nikki wondered and nodded again.

"I think he's trying to make sure he doesn't leave her behind," she said.

"Possible." Anne said. "And I noticed he's counting again."

"I beg your pardon?" replied Nikki.

"He's counting. He did it a lot after his father died, it was a distraction, a bit like you and that dish water. He picks a two digit number and then adds it to itself, again and again. Has he started with the taps yet?"

Nikki looked across at Harry's mum.

"He gets OCD as well?" she asked.

"Only when he's really stressed." Anne replied.

"But there's something else, I know he's upset about this girlfriend dying, but there's more, I just can't put my finger on it. Do you know what it is?" Anne asked.

"He blames himself for her death," Nikki replied. "They fought and He stayed up on the roof terrace whilst she went back to the apartment, that's when she was killed. And then when he was on the run there was another man who helped him, he was killed too."

"Hmm that could be it; he does always take these things so much to heart. So he never got a chance to apologise for fighting. What was the fight about? Does he tell you?"

Nikki was on dangerous ground here, she didn't want to break Harry's confidence.

"It was about how serious their relationship was, I think," Nikki said carefully.

"But they hadn't known each other very long. A couple of months, wasn't it?"

"Eight weeks," said Nikki grimly.

"I don't think Harry's one to fall in love at first sight, he's more of a slow starter." Anne said. "Just like his father."


	20. Chapter 20

**Twenty**

"Anyway," Anne said more brightly, "How are you?"

"Shaken," admitted Nikki honestly. "I was so glad to have him back, but I felt for a while that he was so damaged by all that had gone on, that there was nothing of the real Harry left."

"And is there?" Anne asked.

"Sometimes, often in the night, I think I can get through to him again. I can see glimpses of the old Harry, enough not to give up hope anyway," she said feeling lighter than she had for days now she had shared her worries with someone else.

"Maybe the old Harry shouldn't come back." Anne said.

"What do you mean?" Nikki asked, suddenly scared that her confidences had been derided.

"Maybe this is his chance to move on, to keep the best parts of his life and lose some of his baggage. You can help make sure the Harry that he does reconstruct for himself is better than the one before."

"But I liked the one before," Nikki cried.

"What the 38 year old workaholic with a commitment phobia, are you sure?"

"Nikki, listen to me," Anne said seriously.

"There is obviously unfinished business between Harry and Anna, and he will not get better until he has had a chance to sort it out."

"But how can he do that? She's dead." Nikki replied.

"He dreams of her doesn't he? The nightmares, they are about her?" Anne quizzed her.

"Sometimes," Nikki responded.

"And you go to comfort him?" Anne asked again. "It's alright dear, I don't need to know the complicated details of whatever arrangement the two of you have for your relationship, but you go to him, don't you."

"Yes," she said quietly.

"Now it was a long time after his father died, and Harry was away at school most of the time so I didn't get a chance to see how bad things had got; besides I was grieving for my own husband. But Harry never got to say goodbye properly, he never got to end things with his father, children weren't expected at funerals in those days and my GP suggested that I help him. He suggested that I could help him talk things through, but I knew Harry and I knew he could never do that when he was awake. And so I waited and when the nightmares did come and I had rocked him in my arms until the sobbing had stopped and he was almost asleep. I would talk to him. Pretend to be his dad. Listen to what he had to say and tell him again and again that it was not his fault."

"But what does that have to do with me?" Nikki asked.

"It has everything to do with you." Anne replied.

There was a pause where Nikki just stared at Anne, her brain whirling as she processed all that his mother was expecting her to do.

"You want me to pretend to be his dead girlfriend?" Nikki spluttered "and do what?"

"Tell him what he needs to hear, listen to what he needs to say. Tell him she was sorry they fought, that she forgives him." Anne continued.

"He won't fall for it; he'll know it's me." Nikki said.

"You can and he will believe it's her. If I could pretend to be his father, this will be easy!" Anne retorted.

"You won't have any trouble, a slight Eastern European accent, think Zsa Zsa Gabor and you'll be fine," she continued.

Nikki was still struggling to comprehend all that Anne was asking her to do, when she began again.

"If you don't, I know what will happen," she said her voice low and almost sinister. "He will pick a fight with you for any reason, any reason at all, and he will shout and yell and he will do it all so that he can say sorry later and beg your forgiveness. All because he can't get forgiveness from the one person he really wants it from. And it will go on and on and on. And you will start to fear him and hate him, and that will only fuel his anger and it will get worse and worse. If I had the choice, I'd pretend to be his dead girlfriend."

"You can't say that, you don't know that will happen, he is not his father you know," Nikki spat back.

"You, have no idea what his father was like," Anne replied coldly.

"And besides, how can I pretend to be someone I didn't even know and have nothing in common with?" Nikki cried.

"She was a young, undoubtedly beautiful, an independent career woman who thought she was in love with my son. I'm sure you'll find some common ground," Anne snapped back.

"But it won't work!" Nikki cried again.

"It's your choice dear," Anne replied.

Their noise had disturbed Harry and they could hear him making his way to the kitchen.

Anne started to sing.

'_Heavenly shades of night are falling, it's twilight time _

_ Out of the mist your voice is calling, 'tis twilight time _

_ When purple-coloured curtains mark the end of day _

_ I'll hear you, my dear, at twilight time_

_ Deepening shadows gather splendour as day is done _

_ Fingers of night will soon surrender the setting sun _

_ I count the moment's darling till you're here with me _

_ Together at last at twilight time.'*_

"Mum! Are you singing?" Harry asked incredulously.

"What is going on here? I thought I was supposed to be the one going crazy!" he said. He took in the scene in the kitchen, his mother warbling away and Nikki looking shocked and scared. 'What had they been talking about?' he wondered.

"Oh, I was just singing Nikki the song that I sang to you when you were little to keep the nightmares away; she said she didn't know it."

"But you were singing 'Twilight Time," Harry replied. "I don't ever remember you singing that."

"Yes, dear but there's a lot you don't remember, isn't there," she said pointedly.

* * *

***Twilight Time by the Platters a big hit in 1963, (I remember it from the X files episode Kill Switch.) Also Amy Littiere has a lovely little fic published here about a year ago, called 'That Twilight Time' I don't want to be treading on toes, so a big thanks to her for any influence it may have been for this, having reread it, they are quite different but still have those twilight themes.**

**Let me know what you think.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Thanks to all you lovely reviewers again. I'm slightly surprised I haven't been awash with seething pro-Mrs C supporters, complaining at my poor treatment of her….maybe I'm not so evil after all…**

**Twenty-One**

"Are you going to be ok?" Nikki asked as she prepared to leave around six o'clock.

"As long as my mother doesn't try singing to me," Harry said light heartedly but his eyes were searching her face, drawing out any last strength to sustain him through the night.

"You've got the dentist at eleven tomorrow," she continued.

"Go!" said Harry. "Go, get some rest."

They stood together; eyes locked, before Nikki pressed her cheek against his just as she had in Hungary and opened the door. She left the door for Harry to close and ran to the car. She was getting quite fond of driving Harry's car. Harry hadn't even mentioned it, she thought sadly. He would never usually let that go without some snide remark about her stealing his stuff.

It felt good to be back in her flat. Quiet, different, but good. She quickly finished clearing away the mess and poured herself a large glass of wine.

It was quiet.

She didn't like it so much after all.

How was Harry's silence noisier than her silent flat?

At 10:30pm her phone beeped, there was normally only one person who would send her texts late at night and he didn't have a phone.

'Stole phone, 4give me. Mum made me play Scrabble help me! Looks cold upstairs. H'

She didn't know whether to text back as it would let Anne know that Harry had her phone. Maybe she'd leave it an hour. She suspected that if Harry was going to try and sleep without her, the phone would be the closest substitute. Still, she thought, he wasn't so locked down that he wasn't able to send her a message.

She couldn't settle though. She refilled her wine glass and aimlessly straightened things up in her apartment. She pulled books off her shelf, and replaced them in size order and took long swigs of her wine. Instead of calming down, Nikki was getting more and more agitated. Why couldn't she do this? She had lived alone for years, for her whole life it seemed and now she spent three days living with Harry, even the damaged version of the Harry she had at the moment and being in her own house, on her own felt weird.

'Three days now,' she thought. She'd listened to all his problems, but where was her shoulder to cry on? It was always Harry she turned to when her heart was broken, but where could she go now? How had her life become so empty without him? What would it have been like if he had died?

She thought back over the events of the day. She had felt so close to his mother for a brief moment. Someone who shared her pain, but then Anne had started on this 'horse whisperer' shit. She was out of her mind. She couldn't pretend to be his dead girlfriend; that was not going to help Harry at all.

And what if she did, what would happen then. If Harry found out, he would never forgive her, it would signal the end of their friendship forever. If he didn't find out and thought it was real, she feared it would involve more than just a passionate kiss. He had been so convinced she was Anna, when he had kissed her yesterday. What would he do if she held him in her arms and told him she loved him? How could his mother expect her to do this? A mother's love was a fearsome thing.

She wished she could hate him, it would be so much simpler. She wouldn't be worrying about any of this stuff. She wouldn't be placed in these impossible places. She could get angry about his stupid behaviour, running off with girls half his age, getting shot at and causing her all this pain. She'd just finished her third glass when the phone rang.

"Nikki? Did I wake you?" Harry sounded anxious.

"No, I was tidying," Nikki said.

"It's two in the morning!" Harry replied.

"Well, you don't seem to be sleeping, either?" she slurred.

"Are you drunk?" Harry asked.

"Aren't you?" she replied spitefully.

"No, Mum hid all the booze as soon as you left; bad memories. What's the matter?" Harry couldn't hide the concern from his voice.

"I wish I could hate you, Harry," she began to sniff.

Despite the words, Harry didn't feel hurt, he knew her too well.

"Don't cry Nikki. Don't cry, please. Nikki, what's wrong with us? You're doing housework at 2am and I can't sleep without hearing you breathe." Harry said.

"Perv," she laughed. Calling him names was better than crying.

"I'm sorry if my mum upset you today," Harry said seriously but knew better than to ask about what had been said.

"She didn't mean to, she's just looking out for you, that's all," Nikki replied.

"Well I'm sorry anyway. Nikki?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I," he paused. "I miss you,"

"Yes, you'll have no one to moan at for stealing you cover, or to help you back to bed when you fall out again," she said, steering the conversation away from anything meaningful as always.

"Ha ha," he said sarcastically. "Go to bed Nikki, I'll talk to you tomorrow, goodnight." Harry said.

"Night Harry," Nikki replied.


	22. Chapter 22

**Twenty-Two**

She was right, going back to the office was worse. It was dreadful and Harry was still alive. As soon as she had walked in, she could feel her stomach begin to churn. What if he had gone and this was how she had to come back?

To see his jacket hung on the bookshelf.

The mug he used still on the edge of his desk.

The files he was working on stacked in his tray.

The notes in his handwriting.

The Dictaphone just sat there holding his voice.

Nikki sat in his chair, almost as familiar as her own and looked without seeing across the lab. She couldn't deal with this.

She should never have told Leo, never confessed and given her feelings a name. It made it too real. It was like the mother's in Africa who never named their children in the first week; child mortality was so high, not naming the child was supposed to lessen the pain, when the baby lost the fight in that first critical week. No name, no reality. She suspected it didn't work as well as they'd like but now her own burgeoning thoughts of romance had a name. She couldn't pretend they weren't there and she couldn't pretend they weren't real.

'What would a romance with Harry look like?' she wondered. Apart from some strange usually alcohol fuelled dreams she didn't often fantasise about the two of them together, it was far too dangerous. They had kissed that time in the pub, but that had definitely been the wrong time. She had kissed him, not that long ago. He was putting her to bed, when she was having her own crisis of despair. And then of course there had been the other day when he had thought she was Anna. There would be no shortage of passion if that were the standard, but he wasn't kissing her, he was kissing Anna.

She suspected he didn't even see her as female sometimes. How can you share a bed with someone you have feelings for without letting anything show? A wandering hand to the breast? A carelessly placed leg?

'He must be in a bad way' she thought.

She couldn't talk. She hadn't made a move either but now would certainly not be the right time. She rubbed her eye's, she was so tired.

"Morning." Leo said breaking her reverie.

"Oh, hello Leo," she replied, finding herself blushing.

"It's good to have you back, how are you?" Leo asked.

"I'm…. I'm.. I'm here," she stuttered.

"Nikki, I'm sorry I've not been helping you out much, how is he?" Leo asked again.

"I don't know, Leo. I see glimpses of him and then he disappears again into the mist. He is still having the panic attacks but he has agreed to see a therapist." Nikki explained.

"He did? How did you convince him?" Leo couldn't hide the look of surprise on his face.

"He had a bit of a showdown with one of the nicest Hoodies in Central London, he scared himself, I think." Nikki said, it wasn't entirely true, but some truth Leo didn't need to hear.

"You're lucky, we've not been busy this last week but there are still these files you were working on before…before."

"It's ok Leo, I'll get to work on them," Nikki stood and moved round to her side of the desks where the files were still in her in tray. She picked them up and moved back to Harry's side. She couldn't cope looking at his desk. She opened the drawer to look for a pen, pulling it further than she expected. There was an odd rolling noise, coming from the back. She pulled the drawer to its furthest extent and reached in. It was a hockey ball. She pulled it out and looked at it. Why would he have kept it? Scientific purposes? She sat ball in hand, lost in inertia once again.

"Nikki!" Leo called.

Nikki jumped.

"Nikki I'm really sorry but can you please snap out of the twilight zone." Leo called. "I know it's hard, but we can't afford two temps."

"Yes, Leo I promise, back to work."

She fired up the computer and googled 'Twilight Time lyrics'. There were a couple of lines that jumped out at her.

'_Each day I pray for evening just to be with you _

_Together at last at twilight time'_

It's what she lived for now wasn't it? Those glimpses of Harry in the night, those times when the past was forgotten and the only reality was what they had between them in that instant.

If that was all Harry wanted, a chance to be with Anna, just briefly, to say his piece, to say goodbye. She could do that couldn't she? To bring him closure. She could do that for him. She said she'd do anything to get him back. Anything?

But it wasn't right of that she was certain.

She looked up and noticed Leo was sat at his desk staring out of his window too. They all just needed some time. Everything was still so raw.

She would help Harry, she would, she had to but she would try everything else first.


	23. Chapter 23

**Twenty-Three**

As soon as Nikki actually started work, the day seemed to speed by. There was something comforting about doing something routine and familiar as checking through all the reports on her desk, to make sure the right conclusions had been made and nothing was missed. The mundaneness of the paperwork numbed her brain from the turmoil of angst she'd experienced in the last few days and was strangely soothing.

"Would you like dinner tonight, with us?" she heard someone ask.

"hunh?"

"Oh Leo, I didn't notice you there, sorry. What did you say?" Nikki asked still rather startled.

"I invited you over for dinner. Janet's worried about you, I'm worried about you; it would be a chance for someone to take care of you for once."

"Oh Leo, that's really sweet. Thank you. But actually I'm feeling surprisingly relaxed. I think I would just like to go home and catch up on some sleep, while I feel as if I can." Nikki explained.

"You're sure?" Leo asked. "I don't want to get in trouble with Janet for not making you come."

"Leo, I'm fine, but I am very tired. Tell Janet I'll call her tomorrow if she gives you a hard time." Nikki smiled.

Leo looked at his colleague. She had not had an easy life in many ways; others would have sunk into self-pity and bitterness given a similar lot, but not Nikki. She was a living testament to the phrase; 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.' But he did wonder at what cost she carried on. Just briefly she had let her mask of invulnerability slip when they were in Budapest. He wondered whether this latest brush off was all an attempt on her part to rebuild her defences, stronger and tougher than ever before to protect that aching heart of hers. He hoped she didn't do too good a job and make herself too inaccessible.

"I'll see you tomorrow then." Leo said. "Sleep well."

There was a message on Nikki's answer machine when she got home from Harry's mum. She said he was fine, and then listed his major accomplishments of the day. He had showered and shaved, the dentist had given him a temporary crown, he had spent some time on the computer and offered to help her with the dinner. She was glad in part for the message. It did mean on one level that Anne was still talking to her after their rather heated discussion and Harry did sound pretty good. She hoped it would last.

Harry had called later, but as he hadn't really done anything there wasn't really much to say.

There were no nocturnal messages later that night. She hadn't slept well, but compared to the previous week, where she felt she hadn't slept at all, it had been pretty good. She was looking forward to going to work again. Amazing how work could block out a stack of anxieties. He was due back at his own flat on Wednesday. Anne was dropping him off and she was to go round after work. Maybe she could do an internet shop and have the groceries delivered. She left for work more positive than she had been for days.


	24. Chapter 24

**Twenty-Four**

Harry had been trying so hard. He could sense his mother looking at him. Even from behind the paper, or from the kitchen. He could feel her eyes boring into him trying to locate the source of his bleakness, he wasn't sure what her motive was, to help him, or to protect herself but he couldn't escape from the pressure. It was bad enough that he needed his mother to look after him like this, but all the more painful because with every silence and with every regret that washed across his face she recognised his father. He hated hurting her like this, hated her seeing him like this but try as he might to find something good, something worthy in his life to cling on to, something to have faith in even, to pull him out of the mire, everything he thought of was damaged and tarnished.

'I am a good doctor – so good I know just how to kill a man.'

'I am a good lover – so good I can be selfish and immature and fight and be absent just when I'm really needed.

'I could be a good father – so much for protecting his child'

'I am a good son – so good I never knew she was abused or having an affair or unhappy.'

'I am a good friend – so good I can let my friends think I'm dead and lie to their faces.'

'I am a man with integrity – no I steal and cheat, and escape my rightful punishment.'

Harry stopped. This path was not a good one to be following.

He had to make restitution, pay his penance; earn some forgiveness somehow. There was one quick and easy way to work on one of those. He could return the money he stole from Anna's charity. He would make sure they knew to help Marina, get her some drug rehabilitation treatment. He set to work on the computer, being careful to avoid reading any of the news pages.

As time wore on, he felt more and more burdened by his mothers' presence. She hadn't pressed him into talking at all, but he could tell she thought there was more to the story than he was letting on. He hoped she'd realise soon that actually she really didn't want to know. Like those poor souls who came to the lab, desperate for one last look at their loved one. He really tried hard in those difficult violent cases to counsel them against seeing them. To remember their loved one, how they were and not like that, in the cold and the antiseptic glare of those lights. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes they were grateful.

He hoped his mother would be grateful that he'd spared her the sordid details but he wasn't sure how long he could withstand her incessant watching without blurting it all out to shock and scare her. She was wearing him down and he was so tired. He couldn't sleep much here. He would have to go home before he really hurt her too.

"Thanks for driving me about today, Mum," he said. "I've been feeling much better, do you mind if I go home tomorrow instead of Wednesday?"

"That will be fine, dear." Anne replied. "Do you want me to let Nikki know?"

"No, I'll do it," said Harry.

Harry didn't even bother trying to sleep at first. There was still a few things left in his room from his childhood and he pulled off some of his old books from the bookshelf and reunited himself with some lost treasures. There was a cassette tape hidden down the back behind some of them. A 'mix' tape he'd made of some dreadful Eighties music and meant to send to a girl he'd met on holiday. There were even some picture books. He didn't know why his mum kept all this stuff. Maybe he should throw it out. 'One day,' he thought.

When he finally did sleep he dreamed he was stuck in a maze. It was one of those mazes designed for children where all the hedges were only three feet high. But even so he didn't seem to be able to find his way. It wasn't scary just really disappointing. He should be able to see where to go, his tall frame dwarfing the bushes. And then he heard her voice. She was bigger, in between toddling and walking now, but it was definitely her:

"Daddy! It's this way!" she shouted knowledgeably.

"But you can't see where you're going." Harry called back.

"Daddy! This way!" she insisted. "Follow me!"

* * *

**I always love to hear what you think. More tomorrow!**


	25. Chapter 25

**Thanks to everyone reading and especially those who leave a message. I love your optimism, ah yes Harry does seem so much better… However I did give you a story plan way back in Chapter 6 Denial, anger, bargaining depression, acceptance, we've still got a way to go my lovelies.**

**Twenty-Five**

Two new cases arrived on Tuesday there were no suspicious circumstances, Leo was in court so Nikki was left to carry out the post mortems. If the paperwork had been therapeutic, being back in the cutting room, doing what she did best was positively cathartic. She focused herself entirely on the job in hand, dwelling on each little detail and recording each observation carefully. The conclusions weren't startling; one congestive heart failure and the other an undiagnosed cancer but the process had been liberating.

Even Zak had commented that she seemed in a good mood today. She hoped it was the ability to work again and not just the fact that she had one more night of freedom before Harry duty started again. She wondered where the phone she'd ordered for him was. It was supposed to be delivered to the Lyell Centre but it hadn't arrived yet.

She showered and changed back into her clothes. 'I might even make the effort and cook some real food tonight,' she thought. As she returned to her desk to collect her things she noticed the light on her phone was flashing. She hit the button to play the message and then froze in horror.

"Gyilkos, Gyilkos, Gyilkos!" chanted the voice. She didn't recognise the language. She didn't recognise the voice.

"Leo!" Nikki shouted.

Hearing the terror in her voice, Leo immediately rushed out of his office and to her side.

Nikki pressed play again and the message repeated.

"Gyilkos, Gyilkos, Gyilkos!"

"I've heard that word before." Leo said wracking his brains to remember what it meant, or in what context he'd heard it.

He needn't have bothered; there was a second message that hadn't had a chance to play the first time through, it obviously provided the translation.

"Murderer!" the voice whispered.

"Leo!" Nikki stammered unable to keep her body from shaking. "What does it mean? Who would do this?"

"The voice isn't accusing," Leo said as he replayed the message.

"Sit down Nikki," Leo said calmly, as he carefully removed her hands from around his arm and guided her to her chair. "I think I recognise something."

Nikki did as she was told. Up until now the day had been such a good one and now she was fearful, shaking and all the positive energy she'd generated had evaporated. Leo played the second message again and again.

"Listen Nikki, the second voice, the English one, there's no accent," Leo explained.

He played the message again.

Tears formed in Nikki's eyes as she too recognised the voice. Leo dialled 1471 to confirm where the call had been made from.

"Come on!" cried Leo. "He's on the landline he's at his flat."

"He's supposed to be with his mother!" Nikki cried.

"Well he's at his flat now, come on. I'll drive."

* * *

**I have implicit trust in Google Translator however if you know better and this is not the word for murderer in Hungarian, please don't hesitate to let me know.**


	26. Chapter 26

**Twenty-Six**

Nikki had never known Leo drive so fast before. He was taking the corners so quickly she nearly hit her head on the side door. However fast they were driving, time seemed to be standing still. All Nikki could hear was Harry's voice chanting 'murderer' in Hungarian and English. She hadn't even recognised him. And all she could think of was how angry she was that his mother had left him on his own and how they had to get to Harry before he hurt himself. Of all people his mother should have known better.

As soon as they reached Harry's floor, they could hear his smoke alarm screaming. One of the Japanese neighbours was hammering on the door.

"Mr Harry, Mr Harry! open the door, are you alright?"

Nikki fumbled the key into the lock, barely able to control her hands and they all rushed into the apartment.

She choked back a sob at the sight of Harry sitting at his kitchen area, an entire box of matches had been lit, burned and dropped onto the counter. It wasn't one of those small boxes either and from the look of the counter, when he'd run out of matches he started burning the box and anything else he could reach. He was currently holding a burning envelope, a look of scientific study about him as he observed the flames licking at his finger- tips.

Leo grabbed a tea towel to smother the flames, Nikki grabbed Harry from behind, pulling him off the bar stool and plunging his hand under the cold tap, and the neighbour flapped newspaper at the smoke alarm until the piercing beeping stopped.

With quiet restored, everyone seemed too stunned to say or do anything, all except Harry.

"Gyilkos," he mumbled.

Nikki stared at Leo.

"I go now," said the neighbour quietly.

"Oh yes, sorry, thank you," Leo stumbled over the words.

Nikki left Harry at the sink and went over to shake the man's hand.

"Kazuo," he said by way of an introduction. "Will he be alright?"

"I'm sorry he disturbed you Kazuo. Thank you for trying to help. Harry has had a difficult time recently, someone close to him died quite unexpectedly." Nikki tried to explain.

"In Japan, we think in England everyone have err 'stiff upper lip'" Kazuo continued.

"Not everyone, not all of the time." Nikki explained again.

"Thank you so much for your help," she continued.

"No problem, Mrs Harry, anytime." Kazuo replied, but Nikki wasn't even listening.

She shut the apartment door, even for Harry it had to have been open long enough.

"How does it look?" she asked Leo.

"I don't think he's done any permanent damage," said Leo, briefly taking Harry's fingers from the running water to examine them.

"What were you thinking?" cried Nikki. "You could have damaged your hands, you wouldn't have been able to work! Why are you even here, you're supposed to be at your mother's?"

Harry didn't appear to register the words but he did turn to look at Nikki and seemed vaguely surprised to see both her and Leo in his flat.

"Harry? Can you hear me?" Nikki called again.

"Yes, I can hear you," he said sadly, after a long silence.

Nikki looked across to Leo who was hastily sweeping all the evidence of the fire into a bin-bag; he was white as a sheet. Watching your friend and colleague on fire twice in a week, was difficult to take, she imagined. Nikki recognised the look. The look of horror and disgust, the image your brain wished it had never witnessed and was now indelibly printed on your retina, ready to resurface the minute you closed your eyes. She was grateful she hadn't witnessed it. She wondered ruefully if the therapist she had organised for Harry did group discounts.

Twenty minutes under the cold tap later and the three colleagues were sat drinking tea on Harry's sofa. Everyone needed something stronger, but no one dared be the first. And if Harry did need his fingers looking at, it would be a shame not to be able to drive.

"Harry?" asked Leo. "Did something happen today, something bad?"

"What are you asking if I know what triggered my psychotic episode?" Harry scoffed. "Or do you need to know so that you have something to write on the form when you're having me sectioned?"

"Harry!" Leo said sternly. "I was just trying to help."

"You weren't really trying to harm yourself were you?" Leo asked.

"No," replied Harry.

"And there were no voices telling you to light the matches?" Leo continued.

"No," replied Harry again.

"Well get the idea out of your head that you are crazy. You are not. You are suffering acute anxiety caused by traumatic events, you need time and some professional assistance but you have not lost your mind Harry and I don't want you thinking you have and I don't want you looking over your shoulder at Nikki or myself waiting for the men in white coats to appear. Do you understand?" Leo was using his best bossing tone.

"Yes," replied Harry, but he looked far from convinced.

"Then what was it?" asked Leo more kindly this time.

"I was tired," Harry admitted. "I wasn't sleeping at mums. I thought I'd be ok. She brought me back this morning. I was fine and then... and then…" Harry trailed off. "I just had to know, how I could have done it. What it was like. I was responsible for that man's death and I'm not going to face any charges. How can that be right?"

Nikki shivered and pulled her tea closer, gripping the mug in both hands.

"It's going to be alright," Leo pronounced and gave Harry's shoulder a squeeze.

"You acted in self-defence Harry, and that man was a murderer and a gang member and everything else that goes along with organised crime in Eastern Europe. You don't get prosecuted for self-defence, because that's what it is Harry, self-defence. It was you or him. Take it from me the world is a better place for having you in it and not that scumbag." Leo declared.

Harry made a noise halfway between a scoff and a sob and put his head in his hands.

"I'm not saying all your choices were the right ones Harry. Perhaps reporting Anna's death to the police when it happened and not running the length and breadth of Budapest with the murder weapon in your hand would have been a better choice. But you did what you did. You wanted to find out why Anna was murdered and you did. You uncovered the corruption at the heart of the government and that is never going to go well for the whistle blower. You have saved many of the girls that Anna worked with from this baby snatching operation. She would have been proud of what you did."

"But what good did it do her?" Harry cried.

"It doesn't matter, Harry. What matters is that you accomplished what you set out to do. You have to hang on to that. You did it." Leo said.

"Hooray for me," Harry said cynically. "And as soon as these bastards have been toppled there'll just be new ones to take their place just like they've always been there in the past the soviets, communists, mafia."

"It's not your job to save the world Harry." Leo stated.

"But do let me know if you have any other Messianic delusions because that would look good on that committal form." Leo smiled at Harry, to make sure he would know it was a joke.

"Thanks Leo," Harry said and they all lapsed into silence.


	27. Chapter 27

**Twenty-Seven**

Leo had left around ten. Nothing more had really been said. They had all just sat there quietly each with their own thoughts. Each trying to make sense of what they had experienced in Hungary.

Leo sat and wondered how Nikki was strong enough to spend so much time with Harry. He was exhausted and he had only done one evening. He would have to keep a close eye on her. Usually he could count on Harry to let him know when she was struggling but now they were all struggling.

Nikki tried to cling on to Leo's words about Harry having accomplished something, and how it wasn't all just pointless pain.

Harry was just lost, he had no energy to even complete a train of thought, so he just let images and phrases wash around him and when he noticed one he liked he would try and tune in. Anna's face was already getting hazy. The image of her on the roof terrace was being replaced with the lifeless photo shown on the television. He had to remember.

He only realised Leo had left when he heard the door bang. He instantly looked across to Nikki who was stood at the door.

"I did the door," she said simply.

"Nikki?" he asked. "What would you have done?"

He could see her mind whirling and even at this late hour her brain choosing the most tactful reply in the circumstances. 'What would she have done?' he thought inwardly, not chase halfway across Europe for some bloke she'd only just met."

"I'm not you Harry," she replied as she walked towards him. "I can't say what I would have done, because I probably wouldn't have been able to fight off the attacker in the first place. But if you're asking me can I condone violence in self-defence, then I think the answer is probably yes. In some circumstances it is justified."

"So am I justified?" he asked.

"Harry, you don't need me to tell you that what you did was right. You heard Leo, it was you or him."

"But I need you to ….. need you to understand how I could do it." Harry scrubbed his face with his hands; he wasn't sure what he wanted at all anymore.

"Harry, I've told you before," she said seriously in a voice he recognised from somewhere in his past.

"You are not a violent man, whenever I'm in trouble, whenever I'm hurt you are the first person I turn to and when I thought you were dead, when I thought that I would never be able to do that again, I was totally lost, utterly mind numbingly lost. You are still that same man Harry. Whatever has happened, you are still that man to me, all this" she gestured into the air and towards his kitchen, "has changed nothing."

"I'm tired Nikki," he said reaching out to catch her hand. He worried that her unswerving faith in him was misplaced. He wouldn't be much help at the moment if she were in trouble.

"Please," he begged pulling her hand and holding it against his face.

"Please," he repeated looking up at her imploringly.

"You don't have to ask Harry. It's ok," she said half smiling down at him.

He closed his eyes, lost for a moment anticipating the relief of being able to fall asleep just as a junkie smiles as he holds his next fix in his hands.

"Thank you, " he breathed. "I'm really sorry about earlier."


	28. Chapter 28

**Twenty-Eight**

The next few days were fortunately uneventful. Harry had made it back to the gym successfully and even started driving his car again. After work he was quiet but there were no more fires and no fights. Nikki began to relax slightly, relieved that she could trust him when he was on his own not to lose the plot entirely. She was also glad that she wouldn't have to use his mother's suggestion for helping him back to health. 'Maybe he had moved into the depression phase of the grieving process,' she mused.

It was Thursday and she still hadn't received Harry's new phone. It was ridiculous. It was just the time that a mobile would be helpful and it was stuck in some delivery van somewhere. She should have just gone to the shop and bought one, but they had said they were sending the new handset and SIM card and at the time she didn't dare leave him. She made herself a coffee and tried to ring the phone company. Someone at the company had a sick sense of humour, 'Tracy Chapman's Baby Can I hold you tonight' was not what you wanted to hear whilst you were stuck on hold, although possibly better than The Blue Danube. It did contain the words 'sorry' and 'forgive me' but she figured the tech guy had not listened to the rest of the lyrics. Not as she had done, for the third time now.

Finally she got through.

"You're through to Stephanie, can I help you today?" came the bored sounding voice.

Nikki gave the details and the phone number.

"I'm sorry," Stephanie replied. "That account has been terminated."

"Terminated?" asked Nikki flabbergasted.

"Yes, the computer says that the customer's credit rating is too low, and so the contract has been withdrawn," she explained unsympathetically.

"How can the credit rating be too low?" Nikki asked again.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're boyfriend has been spending his money on, but the computer doesn't normally make mistakes. Is there anything else I can help you with today?" Stephanie asked back to using her telephone voice.

"Erm, No, thank you," said Nikki and replaced the receiver.

What could have happened? She knew her bank balance was never always completely rosy, but she put that down to her fondness for designer handbags. Harry didn't like handbags. He got paid more than she did, and as far as she knew didn't have any major outgoings apart from the obvious. She always suspected that he was reasonably comfortable financially, so what could have happened?

She was still thinking about it all when the phone rang.

"Nikki, it's Harry," he said.

"Is everything all right?" she asked immediately.

"Well yes, and no. I'm at Dr. Peterson's office…" Harry began,

"Do I need to come down?" Nikki asked without even letting him finish his sentence. It was his first session and despite outward appearances she knew he had been nervous.

"No Nikki, it's not that, it's my card. It won't let me pay for the session; can you give them your number please and I'll pay you back?"

"Of course," said Nikki. If Harry had made the effort to get to his appointment, there was no way she was going to deny him the chance of seeing the therapist.

"Put them on," she said.

She fumbled for her purse and asked the girl to verify who she was. She felt a bit mean, as it would seem like she didn't trust Harry, but she didn't give her bank details over the phone to anyone if she could help it. She didn't like what was happening to Harry's money. Hopefully some jobs worth and just registered him as dead, which was why all his cards had been frozen. That would be the most logical conclusion wouldn't it?

She made an excuse to Leo and left early. She stopped at the first mobile shop that wasn't his old carrier and bought him a phone and new contract. Her credit card was really getting a work out today.

She let herself into the flat and saw Harry sat as his desk surrounded by papers. It was the first time she had seen him focused on any activity other than staring at the TV, or looking blindly out of the window. He seemed to be drawing charts, there were lines going every which way, some connecting some drifting off the edge. He hadn't even heard her come in.

"Harry?" she said.

"Oh, you're home!" said Harry with a big smile. "Thank you for bailing me out today. I owe you."

"Yes you do," she said seriously. "And for this too," she pulled the phone out of her pocket and handed it over.

"Ooh, my new phone finally came." Harry seemed pleased.

"No, it didn't Harry. I bought this one for you on the way home. You're account got terminated. The girl said you had a bad credit rating. I'm sure that's why your card didn't work this afternoon. What's going on Harry?"

Harry took a few steps back and sat down in his desk chair.

"Oh," he said.

"Oh!" Nikki repeated.

"What does Oh, mean Harry, what has happened to your money?"

"I think I forgot."

"What do you mean, you think you forgot. Harry you're not making sense. What have you done?" her tone left no room for Harry to avoid answering this question.

"The other day, I was trying to … trying to repay my debts," he began.

"What debts, Harry. You don't owe money do you?" Nikki asked.

"No, not unless you count the mortgage. Not those kinds of debts, when I was in Hungary, I broke into Anna's office. I was looking for evidence, for clues. I showed you the papers I found but as I was searching, I found the cash box. I broke it open and stole the money. I was always going to return it, but at the time I needed money, I was officially dead. I had nothing I was just borrowing it. I remembered about it when I was at mums and I transferred some money from my current account to the charity."

He made it sound simple, but Nikki suspected there was more to the story than he was letting on.

"How much?" she asked.

"Nikki!" Harry said trying to sound affronted.

"How much?" Nikki asked again her tone sterner than ever.

"All of it," he said wearily.

"I meant to move some back in from the savings account, but I couldn't remember the number," he continued.

"All of it!" Nikki repeated startled.

"What does it matter? It's only money." Harry said.

"Well, I hope it helped your conscience, because your credit rating is now non-existent," Nikki said furiously.

"How could you be so….." she couldn't finish.

"Imprudent?" Harry suggested.

There was no point fighting with Harry. It was only money, and it was his money to do with what he liked. But it was just so unlike him. That's what bothered her about the whole thing. He always took care of the details, he was a scientist at heart after all. This carelessness, it wasn't a part of the Harry she wanted. She wished she could ask him how his therapy session had gone. But she was too angry, so instead thought cooking dinner would be the better option.

"This pasta's a bit over cooked today." Harry said as the meal she had prepared disappeared quickly from his plate.

She bit her lip to stop from answering back harshly. It didn't matter if the pasta was a bit soft, she couldn't taste it properly with all the blood she'd drawn from her lip, filling her mouth.

**

* * *

**

**Baby can I hold you tonight: Tracy Chapman**

**But you can say baby**

**Baby can I hold you tonight**

**I love you**

**Is all that you can't say**

**Years gone by and still**

**Words don't come easily**

**Like I love you I love you**

**So what do you think?**


	29. Chapter 29

**Hello o o o o o (echo) anyone else there other than by beloved angst groupies, anne1119, tigpop, thyqua and pinkswallowsun, you're the best :)**

**Twenty-Nine**

Friday was a new day. Nikki had left for work after Harry had promised to sort out his finances, register his phone properly and plead with the gym not to cancel his membership. She decided this would probably be the easiest of the three. Having seen her scrape him off the floor less than a week ago, they were probably prepared to allow for a slight hiccup in a payment plan.

Her day at work had gone smoothly. She had a feeling that Leo was vetting all the cases she was getting. The temp had been working on a dog bite case. He was careful to conceal his work from her, but there was no mistaking that the full length of sheet on the gurney was not needed to cover the tiny body.

By five o'clock she was ready to leave. Her work wasn't finished but she was ready. She picked up the files she was working on and the recordings of her post mortem and put them in the bag. She could work on them over the weekend. They only needed transcribing and writing up really. Harry was still busy working on his charts. It was something that the therapist suggested, and it seemed to be occupying him so she was happy for him to work on them. It would give her a chance to finish these two cases.

Climbing the stairs to Harry's flat she wondered what sight would greet her today. She was beginning to be able to tell them apart. He had a slightly different body position, or face depending on what moment he was reliving. They all had his body locked into tense lines and points but they were all different. She knew the one for Anna of course, but then there was a different one for Janos, his head always angled slightly differently. A different one again for Agnes' baby, fear, protection and exhaustion all rolled into one and his arms hugged tight against himself, in attempt to keep hold of the baby. One day he would be able to tell her what he saw, but mostly she just let him stare. If it were Janos or Agnes, she would go and sit behind him and hold him. If it were Anna, she found a way to be busy until her presence brought him out of his trance.

She was surprised by the smell of cooking that wafted down the staircase. She was even more surprised by the fact that it was coming from Harry's flat. She opened the door, expecting to find his mother or Janet busy in the kitchen. But no, it was Harry and it smelt decidedly like a roast dinner.

"Harry!" Nikki said her voice as surprised as the rest of her.

Harry came loping across the floor towards her and pulled her straight into his arms. He held her tight and then released her to arms-length.

"I am really sorry," he said.

"Yesterday, I was horrible, insensitive, I'm really sorry."

Nikki looked at his hangdog expression, his eyes scouring her face in search of her forgiveness.

"Apology accepted," she replied.

"Do they always come with roast dinners?" she continued

"What?" asked Harry, confused.

"Apologies," she repeated.

"Erm no," said Harry, "they usually come with…." Harry stopped but blushed scarlet and left Nikki no problem in guessing how he usually apologised to his girlfriends.

"That roast smells delicious," she said hastily before their eyes stayed coupled together for too long.

The meal was delicious; Harry had really surpassed all her expectations as a cook. Why had they been eating greasy take-outs all these years? But there was one thought nagging at the back of her brain. A voice like an omen hovering at the edges of her consciousness, it was his mother's voice of course.

She had warned her that Harry would pick fights with her. All for the joy of making up and begging her for her forgiveness.

But had he? She was the one who had been cross about him giving all his money away and anyway they always fought didn't they? That was what made them work so well, the fights and the reconciliations. But there was something unsettling about the evening, something about the effort he was making for this apology. Harry might well be making good progress in his journey back to health, but whereas physically he was getting stronger, mentally she worried he was getting further and further away.


	30. Chapter 30

**Thirty**

The meal tidied away, the two of them sat together on the sofa, wine in hand as they had done on so many evenings recently. Nikki could feel Harry needing to talk, so she sat quietly and waited. Sometimes she waited all evening and he never spoke. It didn't make her doubt her earlier perception, just sad that he couldn't find the words to say.

"Do you ever think about dying?" she heard, causing her to break her train of thought.

"Sometimes," she replied cautiously.

"The job we do," Harry said. "The dead are always around us, and yet I don't ever really consider my own death, as if I'm the only one to escape."

"Now, you know that's not true Harry," she said with a smile. "I know you know that's not true. The last time you had a near death experience you told me you were relieved."

"Relieved," he repeated as if trying the word on for size.

"And this time?" Nikki asked.

"It certainly wasn't relief, it was the complete opposite. I wanted life. I didn't want to give up. I wanted to fight. I did fight; I found power I never knew I had," he broke off. They had already been down that path this week.

"It's just that, I said something to Janos, before he died and I didn't remember it until my therapy session this week." Harry continued.

"You got on well with Dr. Peterson?" Nikki asked not really wanting to pry but feeling the need to show evidence of her support.

"Yes, seems like a decent bloke, he's very down to earth. I think we'll get along." Harry replied.

"Anyway, you were talking about something you said to Janos; I thought you said he didn't speak English." Nikki prompted.

"No he didn't, but we found some common ground; GCSE German and his English wasn't that bad. We were down at the dock, just before, before… well… before. It was late. I had bought us some beer. We were talking and laughing and singing." Harry pulled his hands through his hair, laughing! He had actually been laughing. There was no laughter any more.

"Well actually, I think I was talking," Harry continued. "I was talking about believing in things, how I thought I could have believed in Anna, made something of our relationship about how people needed to believe things. And I thought of you Nikki, and how you can be a scientist and still have faith, believe…in… stuff. Then this is the bit I remembered the other day. I told Janos I was a sceptic." He paused to let the big declaration have its effect.

Nikki was looking baffled but knew better than to interrupt him.

"Since when was I a sceptic and not an atheist, Nikki?" Harry asked.

"Why would I say that?" he repeated.

"Well it didn't sound as if Janos minded that much, are you sure he knew what you were on about?" Nikki asked.

"No, I don't think he had a clue, he was pissing in the river at the time," Harry revealed.

"Does it bother you, that you think there might be something else?" Nikki asked.

"I've got no plans on being religious!" Harry said aghast.

"Don't confuse faith with religion Harry!" laughed Nikki.

"I don't know, I don't know. I think it bothers me more, that minutes after this confession, there was a split second when that bastard had to reload his gun, and I swung that petrol can and that lorry came past…"

"Are you worried, that you surviving Hungary was as a direct result of a miracle?" Nikki was trying hard not to sound as if she was ridiculing him, but it did sound preposterous.

"Leo came back didn't he?" Harry said quietly.

"Leo was strong, and he had people who loved him to come back for." Nikki stated.

"And me?" Harry asked.

"You have people who love you too," she said simply.

"It's a great theory," Nikki continued quickly so neither could dwell on the previous sentiment.

"It's another great piece of evidence for my conclusion that God has a perverse sense of humour," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

"Pardon?" Harry interjected.

"Well, if he was going to send a guardian angel to watch over you in Hungary, it makes sense with my theory that the angel wouldn't even speak English!"

Harry smiled.

"And!" continued Nikki, really getting into her stride now. "It could well have been a miracle because, why wouldn't it be? Jesus spent most of his time on this earth with common people, you know the prostitutes and lepers and outcasts, so where would he most likely be today? With the prostitutes and the drug addicts and the outcasts! No wonder you upgraded your faith status after such an encounter."

"It's not funny, Niks." Harry said.

"I know, Harry," she said turning to face him so he could see the sincerity on her face.

"If you have everything in the world, you have no need for faith. When you have nothing, your faith is everything. I'm not making fun of you Harry. You have a lot to work through, you will never know for sure, your scientific mind will never accept blind faith but there is no crime in recording an open verdict."

She didn't dare tell him that at the very same time he had just described she was begging her distorted notion of a God to keep him safe, praying for a miracle no less.

"Common people," said Harry sadly, raised his glass in a silent toast to Janos and took a long drink of his wine.


	31. Chapter 31

**Thirty-One**

It was Sunday already, amazing how the days pass. The grief that causes your world to shut down and stop, does nothing to stop the incessant rolling of days and nights and months and years. Anne had sent Harry into the garden to cut the grass. The gardener could have done it in the week, but she found that even as a child the busier Harry was the more manageable he was.

"He seems a lot better in some ways," Anne commented to Nikki, as they watched him out of the window struggling to keep the cable from tying itself in knots.

"Yes, well, he wasn't great on Tuesday!" Nikki said spitefully.

"Whatever happened? Why didn't you call me?" Anne asked in a concerned tone.

"Harry, well erm Harry had a bit of a bad turn on Tuesday I thought he was with you and then when we found him, he was alone in his flat." Nikki explained.

"Yes, he wanted to go home early. I asked him if he wanted me to call you, but he said he would let you know. He had been on the computer a lot, so I assumed he had sent you an email. I'm sorry Nikki, I wouldn't have left him if I thought he hadn't told you."

Anne seemed genuinely upset by Nikki's news so there was nothing more to say really. She and Leo had found him before he'd set fire to his apartment and his fingers weren't damaged, so there was no point pursuing it.

"Have you thought about what I said last week?" Anne asked some time later.

"I don't want to lie to him." Nikki replied honestly.

"Why would you be lying? You can you say as little as possible. It's Harry that needs to do the talking not you! I know in some ways he looks better, but a living shadow is not what you want, is it?" Anne said.

"How did you know I hadn't?" Nikki asked sullenly.

"Because my dear, if I look into his eyes I can see whether he is in pain, or in love, or depressed or angry and if you actually stopped for a moment you would realise that you can do it too."

"So what do you see?" Nikki asked, not prepared to reveal that she had spent the last seven years perfecting this art.

"Someone lost," Anne replied. "Please find him for me, I know it's a lot to ask but neither of you will be happy until all this has been sorted.

They lapsed into silence, each busy preparing part of the meal. 'There had to be another way,' Nikki thought.

She left soon after lunch claiming she had some work to do, she would stop by Harry's flat to pick up the files before heading on home. She noticed a brief smile dart across his face. He was probably glad to be rid of her. It's not easier looking the person in the face to whom you confessed some of your deepest anxieties to. There was never any escape from the reminders.

She had her own car with her today; it definitely wasn't as nice as Harry's.

####

Harry had fallen asleep on the sofa, still with the newspapers soduko in his hand. His mother watched him. She knew he had hardly slept at all last weekend and could see his eyes moving in the tell-tale signs of a dream. She waited. Waited for him to wake, gasping for breath as he had done as a boy after his father's death. She had tried to love her husband, it wasn't easy even before the violence but now when she thought about him she thought more of how much she hated the legacy of pain he had left in his wake, and not the love at all.

But the screams didn't come, and he woke up seemingly content and happier, truly happier, an in the eyes happiness that she hadn't seen in him since his return.

"That was some dream," she said.

"Oh mum! You've not been sat there watching have you?" Harry asked.

"Well, you've got the paper!" she said by way of an excuse.

Harry looked down at his hand, and was surprised to see the newspaper still there.

"It's the weekend, it's not the only section!" he said in his defence.

"So are you going to tell me?" Anne asked again.

"It's just a silly dream, Mum. You're not going to go all Freudian on me are you?" Harry ventured.

"I won't say a thing dear!" she replied.

"I was at a zoo, London zoo I think. I was with someone." Harry began, uncertain as to how much detail was wise.

"A girlfriend someone?" interrupted his mother.

"You said you weren't talking," Harry replied. "Actually no, a child a little girl, she was wearing an unusual oriental looking coat with the braiding and the little upturned collar. She wanted to see the elephants. She wanted a photo of the elephants. So we walked and we walked. It was a long way and I tried to distract her, to get her to look at the other animals along the way, but she just wanted to see the elephants. So we kept walking and even though she was only young, she didn't complain, she just kept going. Then finally we got to the elephant enclosure and I gave her the camera and she said.

"But those are Indian elephants!" and that was it, I woke up."

That was not quite it; he missed out the parts where he saw how the sunlight make her hair shine gold, and how cute the little red jacket she wore was, the part where she called him Daddy, the feel of that little hand clinging on to his or the fact that this was not the first time the two of them had met.

"I don't think it has a great significance, do you?" asked Harry.

"What, now you want me to speak?" retorted his mother.

"I think you should find out what kind of elephants you want to find at the end of your journey, before you set off," she replied.

It sounded like a silly response to a silly dream, but the look his mother gave him seemed to say otherwise.


	32. Chapter 32

**Thirty-Two**

Monday again, and Nikki was in a good mood. She realised the reason for Harry's enigmatic smile as soon as she sat down to work. They were all done! All she had to do was sign them. Harry was never in bed when she awoke, it had become one of the little rules that they were following during their unorthodox cohabitation. Like never actually talking about sleeping together, they had never yet given that a name, it had started with 'it's cold on the couch,' and never really progressed. Giving it a name would mean that they could talk about it with real words and that didn't fit their style at all.

Harry must have seen all the reports piled up on the desk, when he got up and sat down and done them. She remembered how good it felt when she could rely on work to distract her from the thoughts buzzing around in her brain. She would have to ask Leo about letting him come back. She had left the files on Leo's desk and gone back to her own and was cracking on with the tasks that Monday had brought.

"Nikki! Can I have a word?" she heard Leo calling her.

She walked into his office and shut the door. Leo had the reports in his hands.

"I've just read your reports," he said pointedly.

"Is there a problem?" She asked. She had checked through them, in her opinion they were fine.

"It depends," said Leo.

"Look Leo, I don't understand, the reports are done, is there a problem with them or not?" she asked her temper rising.

"Well they've got your name on the bottom." Leo said.

Nikki was beginning to think she understood what Leo's problem was.

"If ever there was a report that sounded more like Harry Cunningham than this, I have yet to read it!" Leo explained.

"I'm sorry Leo, I was going to finish them on Sunday, but when I looked at them, Harry had already finished. I just signed them and brought them in. I did do the PM's, they are my cases. They should have my name on the bottom." Nikki blurted out.

"It's not a problem Nikki, I don't mind about the odd report, but perhaps he could make them sound a bit more like you, or he'll have to sign them himself."

"OK," Nikki replied.

"How is he?" Leo asked kindly.

"In lots of ways better, I think. He seems to like his therapist, he has him drawing out and mapping all the events and triggers for his panic attacks, and has given him techniques for dealing with some of them. It's early days but Harry is really positive about it." Nikki said.

"But how is he?" Leo repeated.

"Not dangerous," said Nikki sadly "but still a long way from being Harry. I'm sure he would really appreciate coming back to work, or even working from home," she said.

"I'm not sure he's ready for that yet." Leo replied.

"Please think about it Leo, he's lost without his work routine, it might help to bring him back." She pleaded.

"Yes, and he might set fire to the lab too!" exclaimed Leo.

"I'll think about it," Leo said after a long pause.

"Thank you!" said Nikki, with the biggest smile he's seen for weeks.

Leo didn't have the heart to disappoint Nikki. She had been amazing but he was sure that Harry wasn't ready for work yet. He was still too unpredictable. It might be different if they answered phones for a living but they didn't they were pathologists. He wasn't sure how many of the triggers Harry had added to his chart, but he felt sure victims, of stabbing, gunshots and burns were going to be high up the list for causing flashbacks. He had to think of a way to stall him.

####

"Night Leo," called Nikki as she finished up for the day.

"Goodnight!" he called back. "Oh Nikki, I found this. Harry can come back to work when he feels ready but I have one condition; he has to attend at least one session at one of these." He pulled out a computer print-out that listed grief support groups in his area.

Nikki opened her mouth and then closed it wordlessly. It was one thing to go privately to a therapist. But a support group? Harry would never… But then Leo wouldn't let him back to work…

'Leo could be really crafty sometimes,' she thought.

"Thanks, I'll tell him when he gets back from his mums." Nikki said.

"Let's hope there are no nasty surprises this week." Leo said gently.

"That would be good," Nikki agreed.

Nikki texted Harry the news about coming back to work, as soon as she got back to the car. She knew he would text straight back, so she waited before starting the engine.

Her phone beeped almost instantly.

'Work-F***ing brilliant. Support group-F***'

She smiled and started the engine. Nikki understood his desire to get back to the office, the need to restore some semblance of normality to life but she had to say, she had reservations. For one, they wouldn't be able to spend all day together at work, and then come home and wordlessly slip into this mirage of living together, that they had established. They would have to talk about things eventually and neither of them was ready for that yet.

However Leo's conditions had to be met and it was all very well Harry hearing about them but actually making the contacts and going to a support group were a different matter entirely.

She drove back to her flat, it hadn't seemed quite so lonely yesterday but she couldn't help feeling that her life was still lying in pieces around her. She had been able to keep going for the last couple of weeks on relief and adrenaline, but she was beginning to feel tired. Not just the 'I haven't slept well for a couple of days' tired, but the tired she was when she had battled through the Silverlake case. She had to stay strong, but she worried that it wouldn't be quite strong enough.

* * *

**I was beginning to worry I'd been forgetting to add the odd funny line here and there, to keep us all vaguely sane, but maybe it's not so bad... I always love to know what you think.**


	33. Chapter 33

**Thirty-Three**

The next day as she climbed the stairs to his apartment after work, she thought back to the previous Tuesday and the panic she had felt. It wasn't even really the fire that bothered her. Who hadn't lit a few matches in their time and watched them burn down to the end? Fire was well known to be mesmeric. It was the message he had left on her machine, the voice so full of self-loathing she hadn't recognised it and it had taken Leo to realise that it was Harry. That had really shocked her.

He was slumped over the desk, when she walked in. She immediately felt her heart race as she rushed over to take a closer look at him, but he was just sleeping. She had to stop always fearing the worst, she knew in her heart he wouldn't harm himself; she had to try and trust him but sometimes he made it so hard.

"Why is my desk all sticky?" he called out in his dream. She wondered whether to go and wake him, but apart from the sleep talking he didn't seem to be in any distress. A sticky desk was hardly the cause of a major nightmare so she left him to dream. He woke up moments later to the sound of the kettle boiling.

"Sorry, I woke you," Nikki said. "Cup of tea?"

"Oh that's alright," Harry admitted. "Hmm tea sounds good, how was the office?"

He didn't often ask about work, mainly because for the first few days Nikki had only given him the edited and sanitised highlights, and to be fair they weren't actually that interesting. The latest results of the football team Zak played for were also less than thrilling, so he had stopped bothering.

"Leo is missing you." Nikki replied.

"How so?" Harry asked intrigued.

"Oh, it was just something he said to Zak, I can't even remember what it was now, but it was a perfect set up line, and you would have said something brilliant and witty and funny. But Zak just looked confused and then when he saw us both staring at him he looked terrified and disappeared into the lab."

Harry chuckled. "I didn't think you found me brilliant and witty and funny."

"Not you, Harry. I said your jokes." Nikki retorted but she chuckled too.

"Did you get your desk clean?" she asked.

"Huh?" Harry responded.

"Your desk, it was sticky, when you were dreaming just now, you said your desk was sticky." Nikki explained.

"Oh yes, honey and chocolate spread!" Harry replied the details of his dream coming back to him.

"I beg your pardon; I don't think I want to know how honey and chocolate spread got on your desk, what are you three years old?" Nikki laughed.

'No, actually a bit more than three I would think,' thought Harry. He remembered the sight of his desk in the dream, every inch of spare space covered in a plethora of felt tip pen pictures. They were all almost identical, one big tadpole person and one small one, with matching brown eyes, and big red smiles, legs out the bottom of the heads and arms out the side. The big one had four strokes of brown hair sticking straight out the top of its head and the small one two curving lines of yellow pen that looped round the entire body and touched the ground. There were also some other unidentified squiggles where she had conscientiously written their names. It was when he sat down at the desk to start work he had found the sticky patch and the remains of her lunch.

Whereas before, these dreams had always made him smile, they were beginning to make him sad. They had been back nearly three weeks. Anna would be nearly through her first trimester, she would almost be starting to show. It would be a winter baby. Harry pushed the dream from his brain, he should never have told his mother about the elephant dream; she had spoiled them for him with that odd remark about knowing what elephants you were looking for. It was just his brain trying to reboot itself and these images and emotions were just something to be weathered until normal service could be resumed.

"Earth to Harry!" Nikki called.

He looked across at her, pulling himself out of his little fantasy world as he did so. The laughter they had just shared had evaporated, Nikki looked tired he thought. He had promised not to burden her with any more of these dreams a while ago, and it certainly didn't look like she wanted to hear about it now. He wondered whether he could get away with a more adult reason that his desk was covered in chocolate spread but the moment was gone.

"Thanks," he said as she passed him his tea, but for once was at a loss as to what to say next.

Harry's bad mood continued into the week. On Wednesday they had had a massive row over whether to have red or white wine with their dinner. They hadn't had a fight like that for ages, he wasn't even sure what it was actually about or how it had developed but he remembered he'd yelled that she was trying to control him, she had come back with something about the Jane Eyre fantasy that he had accused her of once before and then she'd threatened to leave. He'd gone to the door and stood in front of it blocking her way and the next thing he knew the tears were streaming down his face and he was apologising over and over again and pleading with her to stay with him.

He had held her arms and they stood forehead to forehead but the rest of their bodies were separated by an invisible wall of pain, and hurt that seemed only to be getting taller, as if it was only the tips of their heads that could make contact now.

"I'm frightened," Harry murmured. But Nikki wasn't answering.

"What happens when sorry isn't enough?" he asked through yet more tears. He hated the crying but it just seemed to take over his body and he was powerless to do anything except let the tears fall.

Thursday was almost as bad, Nikki had met the neighbours on the stairs and they had asked if everything was ok and whether they could do anything to help, having heard maybe not the words but certainly the volume of the previous night's exchange. It had upset her as much as the fight the night before.

"They call me Mrs Harry!" she burst out as she came through the door, still leaving it open for Anna to decide if she was in or out tonight, like a cat needing to do its business.

"Well maybe you should have introduced yourself when we first met them," said Harry innocently having completely miscalculated her mood. On seeing her look of fury he continued.

"Is that so bad?" he asked, throwing down the gauntlet for another fight.

"Well, I practically live here, we argue all the time and we don't have sex," I guess they have every right to think we're married!" she shot back.

That knocked the wind out of Harry's need for a fight, he wished he could just keep silent, no answer he gave was going to end this well but silence was just going to make this worse.

"Nikki, I am very, no, profoundly grateful for all that you have done for me, and I am really sorry for all the distress I've caused, but it doesn't matter what other people think Nikki. They're only here for the summer; please please can we get back to how we were?" Harry said quietly.

He saw Nikki shiver, he had to try harder. He had to stop fighting with her like this but his emotions nowadays seemed entirely out of his control, he didn't even know why he was fighting with her but that he was drawn into provoking her, as if watching her in pain could alleviate his somehow.

"I don't think I can go back," Nikki said sadly and busied herself with some distraction.

Harry had managed to get through Friday without causing major offence. But by Saturday he was feeling really irritable. The gym was good at working of his excess physical energy but his mental energy was still flying around making him furious one minute, then depressed, and distraught the next.

He was caught in a whirlwind and he didn't know what to do next. He'd dreamed of the little girl again and it shocked him how badly the dreams affected him. This time he had been reading a bedtime story about a chicken going for a walk, the chicken was followed the whole time by a fox, but she seemed totally oblivious to the fact, or the misfortunes that were befalling the fox. He was tired of it all really. He wished it would all go away. And how did he dream this stuff? Maybe he'd seen the book on his shelf at his mother's, it did seem vaguely familiar.

"Are you ok?" Nikki asked.

"Do you think I would have made a good father?" Harry asked.

Nikki's eye's opened wide.

"I don't think you've failed at anything in your life, have you? Why would this have been any different?" she said diplomatically.

"You didn't answer the question." he said sadly. "I have an impressive track history of failed relationships why would fatherhood be any different?"

"Oh Harry, why are you worrying about this now?" she answered.

"You have no idea what I'm worrying about!" he shouted and they were off again.

Most of the points weren't relevant but he did remember hearing Nikki yell;

"Harry, this has nothing to do with Hungary, you're 38 years old, you have been questioning your bachelor existence ever since Niall was here, and do you think you could just work on one life crisis at a time? You're killing me here!"

It was at least enough to get him to stop fighting with her. He shut himself in the bedroom and tried to calm himself. The responsibility of looking after Niall and not knowing where he was half the time or what he was doing was terrifying, not Hungary terrifying but terrifying all the same. But that wasn't what he missed when Niall left. It had been those few days where the two of them had worked together to look after him. They had fallen naturally into some kind of good cop/bad cop parenting style without a word ever passing between them. It was not Niall he had missed. It was the two of them playing happy families.

Well it wasn't happy families now, and he had no idea how to stop. Her words about him killing her however metaphorical had cut deep.

It was Nikki who apologised first this time, knocking quietly on the bedroom door and speaking before she dared to open it. She had definitely been crying.

"I'm sorry I said you were killing me Harry, it was really wrong of me. Do you think we should take some time out here?"

"I wish I knew Nikki, I don't understand why this is happening. I don't want to hurt you Nikki but I do, I do it all the time. I don't want you to go either, but if you can't stand it anymore, then feel free to leave." Harry said mournfully.

Nikki wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on the head.

"How could I leave you Harry?" she whispered.

* * *

**I confess to stealing the 'married' line from Lee Mack in 'Not Going Out' but there he uses the line;**

**"We row all the time, she thinks I'm useless and we don't have sex. We could be married."**

**The story book Harry remembers is Rosie's Walk by Pat Hutchins first published in 1973 and still going strong.**

**Also the clues are getting less and less subtle, I need some suggestions here as to the identity of the dream girl. In the words of Dana Scully 'the answers are there, you just have to know where to look.'**


	34. Chapter 34

**Thirty-Four**

Another week and Nikki had begged Leo to let her take some of the bigger cases. The temp was looking dreadful and Nikki couldn't help but take pity on him. It would also mean she would have to work late and had every excuse for not spending every evening fighting with Harry.

But by Friday, all the cases had been closed, or able to wait until after the weekend, and Nikki was actually looking forward to a glass of wine with Harry. She had slept there of course all week, but that didn't involve talking. Two of the nights Harry was already in bed, so she just climbed in next to him. It was only a moment before she felt Harry's arm encircle her and pull her close against him. He would always whisper something like,

"I missed you," and gradually she would feel the stress, and tautness dissipate from his body. She was always asleep before he was and she knew he would be gone before she woke. She knew he slept in the time in between but for how long, that wasn't clear.

There were no smells of cooking to greet her this week, but then the whole week had gone by and they hadn't really fought at all, so there would be no need for an apology. They hadn't fought but then they hadn't spoken much, could that be it?

She used her key and opened the door. She looked in, holding the door open wide in the way that Harry liked.

"You can slam that," he slurred. "I don't need company tonight."

Nikki wavered in the doorway, still holding the door open wide, did he mean her? Or his ghosts? There was at least one empty bottle of Scotch on his table, and it looked like he was making inroads into the second.

"Harry!" she said aghast. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Drinking!" said Harry with a goofy smile on his face and raising his glass to toast her.

"Harry!" she cried again. This was another of the talks they had never had. She had always been careful to only serve wine with a meal, and then one glass afterward. There was too much temptation for both of them, alcohol was not the solution for either of them. They both had demons to avoid in that area. She had called him a 'drunk' in jest once, but it was one of those times when she realised she'd sailed too close to the wind and it was never mentioned again. Not so for his 'tart,' retort she realised.

She closed the door and then walked to the table to remove the bottle. Harry was drunk but he was still faster than she was, and he grabbed the bottle quickly.

"Will you be joining me in this cele….celebrashun?" Harry asked insolently.

"No, I won't and you will be stopping right now, unless you want me to turn round and walk straight out that door!" Nikki said sternly, her hand outstretched.

"Tha's a shame, tha's a great shame," Harry slurred, but gave up the bottle to her outstretched hand.

"What happened Harry?" Nikki asked, sitting down opposite him.

"I can come back to work!" he said proudly, downing the last dregs from the glass on the table between them.

"You went to a support group!" Nikki said.

"Yep, I went and I don't have to go back, turns out I'm not grieving!" Harry said harshly.

"And so instead you're drinking?" Nikki snorted.

"Oh Nikki, I deserve it, I do. I know all these weeks you've been watching me and we've been being careful. I know you worry that I don't want to turn into my father. I understand why you do what you do, you said it yourself, 'your dad was in the Nick, mine was barmy' and they were both drunks and you and I both know how genetics work. But I went to that group and when I got back I needed a drink and now here I am.

"Was it so bad?" Nikki asked.

"No, Nikki, it was fine, it was good even, the others seemed to find… well support from being with the others." He said feeling more sober than he had for a while. "But I just didn't fit in," he explained.

"But the point of support groups, is that everyone is welcome and made to feel part of it, that's surely the whole point of them," Nikki stated.

"Well this one, was for people who were grieving for lost loved ones. Everyone introduced themselves and told their stories and Nikki they were so tragic. The husband that lost his wife after 60 years; married when they were teenage sweethearts. The parents who had lost their twin daughters in a car accident. The heart attacks, the strokes. The young man stabbed in the street for no reason, leaving a girlfriend and young son. They were all such woeful stories, and they were all in such pain.

They all had ways that they remembered their loved one, poems and rituals and holding on to pieces of them, " Harry trailed off slightly. "One of them told this story about how they were in the queue at McDonald's and the song on the shop radio reminded them of something, and there they were crying in the middle of McDonald's and utterly humiliated."

"You are in pain too Harry!" Nikki insisted.

"Not like them, not like them," he repeated. "I have nothing."

"What did you say when it was your turn?" Nikki asked.

"I said, 'I had an argument with my girlfriend, and because of it I wasn't with her, when she was attacked and murdered,' and I knew they knew. I just knew it."

"Knew what Harry?" Nikki asked again.

"Knew that I wasn't in love with her, not really. It's not love like those people felt. I'm just guilty, jus' guilty. Can I have my bottle back now, please?" Harry asked.

"No, Harry, no more drinking. Just because your grief doesn't look like someone else's doesn't make your feelings any less real. You know if you loved her or not, or if you just needed more time to know, you can't make these people make you feel guilty just because you're experience is different." Nikki insisted.

"And what gives you the right to lecture me on love?" Harry guffawed.

"I'm not lecturing you on love, Harry I'm lecturing you on grief. It comes in many different guises, and no way is any more right than any of the others. And for your information I have been in love."

"And what happened?" Harry asked spitefully.

"He died," Nikki replied with equal spite.

"I shouldn't have left her, I shouldn't have argued with her," Harry retreated into silence.

Nikki knew she wouldn't be getting any further with Harry for a while, so left him in favour of searching out food. There were a pile of papers on the counter.

"Are these important?" Nikki asked.

"Oh no, not really it's just some handouts from the group and a few poems and stuff." Harry said sleepily and with his bottle gone he soon began to snore.

Nikki made herself a sandwich and sat at the counter. She couldn't help looking at the top paper, it was a fragment of a poem. She took a bite of the sandwich and started to read; the bread turning to cotton wool in her mouth as she did:

_'If you no longer live,_

_if you, beloved, my love,_

_if you have died,_

_all the leaves will fall on my breast,_

_it will rain on my soul night and day,_

_the snow will burn my heart,_

_I shall walk with frost and fire and death and snow,_

_my feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping,_

_but_

_I shall stay alive,'_

She reached out for the whisky she had taken from Harry and took a long swig straight from the bottle.

* * *

**The poem is taken from Dead Woman by Pablo Neruda and before you think I read Chilean love poetry for pleasure, I'm afraid I thieved this from the film 'Truly, Madly Deeply' by Anthony Minghella. Worth a watch, but it is about grief so make sure you have some tissues.**


	35. Chapter 35

**For Thyqua who was worried that Nikki was getting off lightly on the angst front!**

**Thirty-Five**

Harry might not think he was in love, but she was. It was there written on the page, every emotion she had experienced after Leo had told her Harry was dead condensed into nine lines. She took another swig from the bottle and hadn't she just told him. She had told him she had been in love but he had died, that was her Harry, only he didn't know she was talking about him. She pulled the paper away from the others and wrote on the top of it, 'Harry, this is exactly what I felt. Nikki.' She folded it up and put it in the top drawer of his desk.

Harry wasn't getting better and now he was free to come back to work. She had to do something. She thought back to the previous Sunday. She had missed dinner at Harry's mums as she had been called into work, but he could have only been there ten minutes before Anne texted her.

'Please help him Nikki, please try."

Well Harry was drunk, really drunk and he wasn't going to remember much in the morning anyway. What had she got to lose? She moved over to sit next to him on the couch and watched to see if he was dreaming. She really didn't want to wake him. If he ever found out what she was about to do, he would never be able to forgive her and then it wouldn't matter if she loved him or not because he would hate her.

"Harry, Harry," she whispered, accenting the second syllable and attempting a European accent. She wasn't bad at mimicking accents but she had to admit that if she went on for too long, they all drifted towards Afrikaans which really wouldn't work.

Harry stirred in his sleep.

"Harry it's Anna, I've missed you so much Harry."

Harry mumbled and snuggled back against Nikki.

"Harry," she called again in a more singsong voice.

"Anna!" he said clearly but from deep in his dream. "I knew you would come, I've been waiting for you to come."

"I'm here now Harry, we need to talk don't we." Nikki said.

"Anna," he said contentedly. "I heard about the baby"

"I should have told you Harry, it was wrong of me not to tell you." Nikki continued.

"Shh, it's ok" Harry soothed. "I understand; you didn't want to tell me on the phone, some things are not meant to be spoken on the phone," he paused, "Your father said that you didn't love me, you just wanted a baby."

Nikki sighed, this was another bit of the story that Harry had kept to himself, and how was she supposed to answer this one? Anne had said he would do all the talking. Then she remembered all his phonecalls.

"I did take advantage of you Harry, but you called me, do you remember. I played really hard to get after Amsterdam, but you didn't give up, and I admired that about you. Of course I loved you Harry you were the father of my child."

Nikki couldn't help the tears that escaped silently from her eyes, it was so hard to take on Anna's psyche without considering the impact of those words for herself. 'Is that actually what she wanted?' she wondered. Somewhere in all their unspoken intimacy was there a dream of not just something more with Harry, but something greater and as life changing as a family?

"Please don't cry Anna, I'm sorry I wasn't there, I'm sorry we had that stupid fight. I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm a doctor and I couldn't save you. I tried but it was too late and then he came at me. Oh Anna, I am so so sorry." Harry cried.

Nikki was worried that Harry would wake up if she wasn't careful, so she decided to try and make an end of it.

"Harry, it's ok, I know you didn't want any of this to happen. I forgive you Harry. I have to go now Harry, but you will be alright," Nikki said soothingly.

"You'll come back, won't you?" Harry asked.

"I'll try, I love you Harry Cunningham," Nikki said and moved off the couch and back to the bottle of whisky.


	36. Chapter 36

**Thirty-Six**

She had helped him to bed later; he was still completely out of it. She wondered if he would take the opportunity to make a pass at her in his confused state but there was nothing. Harry always pretended to be a bit of a player and he'd had his fair share of conquests, but if you got past the innuendos there was something old fashioned and gentlemanly about his behaviour. It was probably why they had never got it together. There was no way he would take advantage of her when she was drunk, and sober they just never seemed to have the timing.

Saturday morning was different. For once Harry was still in bed when she woke up. She didn't have to check on him, as the snoring was obvious testament to his health. She jumped out of bed before she could lay there and remember the words she had whispered to him in the night. Words of love and of wanting him to be the father of her children, even if she was pretending to be Anna. She had said it all out loud. Words were dangerous for the two of them. No wonder they avoided them.

She dressed quickly and left him sleeping. She put the radio on quietly in an attempt to muffle her thoughts and searched through the cupboards to find something that might work as a breakfast accompaniment to a mediocre hangover. She loathed getting drunk alone, so she hadn't had that much, her hangover shouldn't be too hard to shift. She found more coffee and some cereal, which she figured was about the best she could hope for. As she opened the fridge for some milk, she became aware that she was being watched.

She spun round and saw Harry standing in the doorway of his bedroom looking at her. He was leaned against the door jam, one leg crossed in front of the other, and his arms crossed against his chest. He had pulled on some trousers but was still wearing the t-shirt he'd slept in and his hair was liberated from anything constituting a style.

"What?" she asked, aghast?

"You look like you've seen a ghost Nikki. Are you alright?" he asked; the corner of his mouth pulled into his trademark wry smile. "What's the matter? My hair can't be that bad! Are you embarrassed that I caught you dancing to the radio, or that you're stealing my coco pops?"

"I didn't know, you were, you were…..you were home," she stammered.

"Of course, I'm at home, where else would I be? I have a slightly hazy memory over last night's events but I'm pretty sure I was drunk and I am more sure that we shared that bed. How could I not be at home? You daft moo!"

"Sorry," Nikki said, "How's your head? I found the paracetamol."

"Thanks," Harry replied, crossing towards the kitchen counter, with his familiar loping stride, filling a glass with water and swallowing a couple.

"I'm sure it'll improve, I might pass on the coco pops though," he said, standing so close to her side their elbows were touching.

"They taste a bit stale," Nikki complained.

"Well they've probably been there since Niall was here!" Harry laughed.

"Oh!" Nikki said. "They didn't seem like your thing!"

"And what is my thing?" Harry asked.

Nikki stared at him, like a rabbit caught in the headlights, what was he asking? She took the safe option and stuck to talking about breakfast.

"Erm, fruit, yoghurt and muesli?" she suggested.

"You know me so well," Harry replied but she caught a slight look of disappointment in his eyes. Maybe she shouldn't have been talking about cereal.

"You look…..relaxed," Nikki ventured.

"Yes," Harry admitted. "Despite the hangover, I feel….erm more like myself, if that doesn't sound crazy."

"No, Harry, it doesn't sound crazy, it sounds good." She smiled up at him, and held his gaze for as long as she dared, before shyly turning back to her food.

"I'm going to take a shower," Nikki said when she finished her cereal. "I didn't want to disturb you when you were sleeping. She hurried quickly to the bathroom, hoping that Harry didn't notice her trembling.

"Let me know if you need help!" he called.

Nikki shut the bathroom door heavily and locked it. She leaned back against the door, breathing hard.

He was back.

She should be overjoyed; shouldn't she?

There was no doubting it. That was Harry Cunningham, living breathing and making salacious comments, two rooms away, barefooted, hair up on end and in an old t-shirt and yesterday's jeans. And she was more afraid now than ever before. More afraid than when she looked into his eyes on that bus in Budapest, more afraid than when he was playing with the fire, and far more afraid than when he had been shouting at her.

What was she going to do now?

After she couldn't wait any longer without Harry thinking she'd passed out, she stripped off her clothes and climbed into the shower. She hoped to be able to collect her thoughts as she let the fine spray coat her naked body but it only seemed to make things worse.

Harry was back.

The innuendos, the laughs, the horseplay...

She would have to leave. She couldn't share a bed with Harry when he was like that. There would be no way to justify sleeping together to ward off the nightmares not with that thing, that unspoken thing, that there was between them. It had been gone this past month, but now it was back, very definitely back. She turned off the water and dried herself roughly; as if she could shake away the effect he had on her. But she could no more do that than pretend they were just good friends.

"Are you sure you alright in there?" she heard Harry's voice call through to her.

"Harry I'm fine!" she replied and then cursed herself for falling back into her default setting. 'I'm fine' she hated those words really.

She was far from fine. This was all her fault. That sounded familiar. This.. This burst of exuberance, even with a hangover! She had no doubt it had to do with their little tête á tête the night before. And what was going to happen? He'd be like this for a day or two, a week maybe and then the memory of Anna would fade again and he would slip into a depression, blacker and deeper than before and when she could stand it no longer, she would do it again… pretend to be Anna… and he would come back to her. But it wasn't her, he was coming back to. It was Anna. Nikki rubbed her face with the towel, hoping that by drying the tears Harry wouldn't notice she'd been crying. It was all her fault. What was she thinking?

"Nikki!" Harry called again. "I really don't want to ask the neighbours if I can borrow their bathroom, but they think I'm crazy so it probably wouldn't matter… Are you coming out anytime soon?"

Nikki prepared herself, and opened the door. Harry wasn't there.

"It's all yours," she called.

He sauntered in from the kitchen, coffee mug in hand. "Yours is on the counter, thanks," he said, hurrying towards the bathroom.

'If only you knew, you wouldn't thank me then,' Nikki thought sadly and flopped onto the couch with her coffee.

* * *

**So did it work? I know there are a lot of sceptics out there!**


	37. Chapter 37

**It's very quiet out there, are you alright? Thanks as ever to those loyal reviewers you are the best!**

**Thirty-Seven**

Nikki was more than relieved when she was called out to a scene that afternoon, she popped back to the office to make a start on the paperwork, figuring the longer she spent away from Harry the better. In the evening they had just watched a DVD, but one that Harry had actually stood up and chosen, not just a scrolling through the channels to find something to obliterate his consciousness.

Nikki felt slightly cheated, when Sunday dawned and the phone stayed quiet. A Saturday night without a fatal stabbing, how could she think that was a bad thing? Harry had calmed down slightly, but his posture had maintained its familiar ease of curves and bends and a softness she hadn't seen for a long while. She couldn't help looking at him every now and again, to remind herself that he really did seem to have turned a corner. She hoped it was due to his imminent return to work, and not her. He was so drunk, he couldn't possibly have remembered. Could he?

She felt herself begin to relax again in his presence. Maybe it was just the shock, or the hangover that had so badly affected her yesterday. She could do this. She could be Harry's friend again. She could look him in the eye when he was making his silly innuendoes and retaliate as she had always done, and not just melt under his gaze. She had to stay strong.

With no fatalities to investigate she had not excuse not to join Harry for lunch at his mother's. What would Anne say? She wouldn't fail to notice. Harry drove and they had talked genially about what task his mother would have prepared for him today. He wasn't staying over. Tomorrow he could go back to work.

"Nikki," Harry began. "I've been thinking, when I come back to work..." he had been thinking about how to put this for most of the car journey. He didn't want to offend her in any way but something had to be said.

"Nikki, you know how much I've needed you these last few weeks."

"Shit, No!" He cursed himself; that definitely didn't sound right now.

"Seriously Nikki, those first few days, I don't think I could have breathed without you holding my hand, but I really think, I'm doing better and I will probably regret this but I think we should spend …."

He couldn't bring himself to finish. Why did it sound so much as if he was breaking up with her? He couldn't expect her to spend every waking and sleeping moment with him, but at the same time, he couldn't ask her to leave when he wasn't sure he wanted her to go. 'Why was he finding this so awkward?' he wondered. They were just friends, best friends.

"Nikki," he sighed again.

She put him out of his misery.

"Harry, I promised that I would bring you home from Hungary. I was expecting just to repatriate your body. But I was spared that horror. This last month, I have kept that promise and I am really pleased that you are feeling better. But there will be times when you get lost, there will be times when the darkness takes you again and you must promise me that when you feel it coming you will let me know. Just text me, or look me in the eye and say my name and I'll come back. Does that sound ok?" she asked gently.

Harry tore his eyes from the road to look across at her. She didn't meet his gaze, but he knew she understood how grateful he was.

"And Friday nights are a given?" he asked hopefully.

"Of course," she replied.

"Nikki." He whispered, contentedly.

Harry's mother greeted him warmly but without a great show of emotion. She gave him a quick hug and then held him at arm's length and exclaimed.

"Thank you for coming back!" and gave him another quick hug.

"Well, it's summer, I'm sure that grass will need cutting again," he said, but he had the feeling that no one was really listening to him.

By contrast she threw her arms around Nikki.

"Thank you," she whispered,

"Nikki, I missed you last week, but I can tell you've been busy at work you know righting some wrongs and setting people back on the right path!" she said.

"What!" Harry harrumphed. "I get welcome back, and she gets a gold medal for services to pathology!"

"I got the mower out for you already!" retorted Anne.

Harry stomped through the house cursing under his breath, he would never understand women.


	38. Chapter 38

**Thirty-Eight**

It was Monday, Nikki got to the office early, thinking if she could get herself engrossed in her work then it wouldn't be such a big deal when Harry came back. Just before nine she heard the doors whoosh open and in he strode. Outwardly he looked calm and composed but there was a hint of nervousness around the eyes she noted. He looked back to the doors and resisted the urge to make them open again. At least Anna would leave him in peace here.

He stopped half way across the room and stared.

"Harry is something wrong?" Nikki asked.

"My desk!" Harry muttered with a completely stunned expression.

"It's still there, exactly how I left it!" he continued. "And there was I thinking I'd have to spend the first hour of my morning digging through a month's worth of chocolate wrappers and who know's what other rubbish you might have left on there!" he laughed. He walked round and sat in his chair regarding her across the desk divide.

"It's so good to have you back, Dr Cunningham," Nikki said in her best professional and utterly sarcastic voice.

"It's good to be back," admitted Harry.

"But you know what, you could have washed this mug, I think a new life form is developing in the bottom." He picked it up and pulled a nasty face. He made a big show of taking it over to the kitchen area to wash. Nikki couldn't help but giggle. The mug was truly disgusting, it was a wonder she hadn't caught something infectious. Deep down he knew why she had left it there. It symbolised that one day he would be back, and although he had spent a lot of time working on his own problems, just occasionally his brain let him wander through the scenario where the situation was reversed, and it was he who had been told that Nikki was dead. His thought process never got further than that, it was just too bleak to even contemplate.

Going back to work provided Harry with a great distraction, and took the focus away from his own difficulties. It was hard to worry about whether or not you were in love with someone, you'd only known a few weeks, when some power crazed Detective Inspector was scrutinising you're every move and screaming for evidence that didn't exist. It was also much easier to fall asleep, when you had actually done something productive in the day. But it wasn't all plain sailing and the nightmares still came.

And so a new unspoken language was developed, a look to say 'I need some time out' a number blurted out to show he was counting and not listening to whatever was being said. A touch of the hand, a meeting of eyes and a whispered name that meant 'I need you.'

Nikki quite enjoyed the numbers, it usually only occurred when they were talking to some of the more annoying police officers they came across. Harry would find a moment to say 'Ah yes paragraph 496, or haven't there been 612 recorded cases of…' and Nikki would send him off on some errand to collect something from the car, or some such and then relay the information to him when he had calmed down.

He was nervous about seeing Marina again, but she looked so different that he didn't even recognise her at the airport. It was she who had thrown her arms around him, and he had looked on in stunned silence at the transformed woman before him. Not only had he found her daughter for her, but he had also found her a flat, a list of part time jobs available in the area and a number of vocational courses at a nearby college. He had agreed to pay her rent for the first three months and then see what she needed. It was a small sacrifice but it went a long way to assuaging his guilt. He couldn't understand the love that let her walk away from her daughter though; his efforts of self-sacrifice seemed paltry in comparison.

Time and again during a usual boring day, he found himself needing to leave the office, get some fresh air, or hide in the locker room to recharge and regroup. He would never have been able to manage without the help of his therapist. He had been sceptical about cognitive behaviour therapy but he had also been desperate. He had been impressed by the results, maybe he was turning into a believer.

He also knew that the reason he could get through the day, was because Nikki was there too. She would often come and find him, when he took a break, most of the time she didn't say anything. Sometimes at a scene she would surreptitiously squeeze his hand, or pull him into a hug if they were alone in the locker room. He'd sat for a whole hour one lunch time, wordlessly holding onto her, just as he had done when he first returned.

They never needed to talk much about the evenings when he needed her close. They just knew. At some point during the day he would catch her eye and call her name. He didn't plead, or beg or feel embarrassed he just simply said; 'Nikki.' And he knew she would be there.


	39. Chapter 39

**For Bee**

**Thirty-Nine**

For Nikki however, the strain of the past few months was steadily taking its toll. It was as if the two of them were so inextricably linked symbiotically that the stronger Harry became the weaker she became. She had lost the bounce from her step, and her face always looked weary. She suspected she might have gained a few pounds, not that that bothered her particularly, but it had altered her face somehow and she didn't always recognise the face that stared tiredly back from the mirror.

She was still there for him whenever he needed her, she would hold him, and comfort him but now she had run out of things to say. There were still nights when he asked her to stay over. Well that wasn't entirely true, Harry didn't ask, not really, but on the times when she knew he needed more than a quick hug in the locker room, she would go and stay with him. The rules for this had also evolved as wordlessly and effortlessly as the rest of their relationship. As soon as they had established that Nikki would sleep over, Harry would stop flirting with her. She hadn't ever asked him to do it, but instinctively they knew that flirting and sleeping together could not go hand in hand. The following day all would return to normal.

She missed those twilight times when they had first come back from Hungary. Those rare glimpses of Harry, in the darkness. The Harry that came to her and not to Anna. They had been food for her aching heart and had sustained her for a long time, but now she was starved and didn't know how to continue.

But still she went; when a series of nightmares had disturbed his sleep and made it impossible to concentrate during the day. No behaviour therapy seemed to be as good as having her sleep by his side. Whenever she had to rock him back to sleep in her arms, she would whisper to him, in Anna's guise. She would tell him again, that he was forgiven, that he was loved, that he had needed more time and she shouldn't have argued with him. And every time she did, he returned the next morning more peaceful, more contented but she felt guiltier, more depressed and more certain that he had no real feelings for her whatsoever. It was steadily destroying her.

Back when all this began she had wondered whether Harry would take the opportunity when he was slightly better, to develop their relationship. To respond to the feelings, she was sure she had expressed to him. The ones that seemed so obvious it would be impossible even for him to miss. But the summer wore on, and Harry seemed content with going back to the way things were.

She couldn't go back, she could only keep up the pretence, but still she longed for him to make a move. She imagined it was like struggling with infertility, every month there was the potential for something amazing to happen. But instead there was just the same old familiar ache and remnants of hope and potential flushed away. However instead of only being crushed once a month, Nikki's cycle of longing seemed to rise and fall weekly.

For a while in late summer, she perfected some kind of equilibrium, where she could get through the work day, without Leo pulling her in for one of his pep talks, but at home it was a different story. She'd lost count of the times she'd just sat there, on her own, in the dark, crying.

Then came the worries about the cutbacks and the money. She remembered Harry making some joke about having thirty quid he could offer, she knew where the rest of his money was now, paying for Marina's flat, and who knew what else. He still felt guilty despite all she had done and she was just too tired to take on any more and so she just ignored it all. Ignored it until Leo dropped that bombshell:

"You're not thinking of leaving us?"

She had been enjoying the sight of Harry earlier as he'd watched James Sabiston work. Mind alert, solving every inch of the puzzle but body relaxed in that chair, feet up on the window and traditional smirk on his face. But not now.

She was so shocked, she couldn't even move. In all of those dark nights, all the pain and anguish it had taken to bring him back, she had never once thought he would voluntarily leave her. It took the terror to a whole new level and she began to worry that Harry leaving might actually be for the best. A clean amputation would be excruciatingly painful, but maybe the only way to save herself. She suspected though that it wasn't a limb she would have to amputate, but her very heart.

"What would you do?" he had asked her.

"I'm not you," she had replied. It was more to convince herself that they were two distinct entities, not just two brilliant pathologists and one fully functioning human being.

"Leo, thinks you're irreplaceable," was all she could think of to say, she didn't dare expose her heart again, it was too damaged, too vulnerable, too tired.

He just laughed it off, but she could read in his eyes that he had noticed her fear.

* * *

**Just before you blame me all for being utterly evil, I'll have you know that most of this came from an idea from Lilypad and I quote "**_**Another aspect that could be exploited for angst is Harry sensing that he was losing Nikki..Now that may not be to another man...It could also be to Nikki feeling disheartened that despite her efforts she was going nowhere romantically with Harry and consequently trying to run away from it all. Thus Harry is forced to face his true feelings." **_

**So it's not all my fault. But Lilypad you are the brilliant!**


	40. Chapter 40

**Forty**

Harry was troubled. There were all sorts of things about the Van Buren case that had bothered him, but none more so than his reaction to them. Admittedly his nose was put out of joint, when Leo had replaced him with James, the pathologist of choice for dodgy governments and cover ups. Blimey. But his need, his compulsion to find Jack, it had consumed him, and it worried him. It wasn't his job, the police should have done it, he should have told them he suspected that Jack was still in the house, but he couldn't. He needed to be lauded as the hero again.

'Shit!' he cursed to himself, he still needed to prove himself to her, he still needed her forgiveness after all this time. Why did everything seem to be about Nikki?

He had worked hard with his therapist, to retrain his brain and with success in the most part, but somewhere along the journey, when everything else was getting better, things between them seemed to be growing more distant, more strained and he wasn't sure why.

He was startled by the phone ringing.

"Harry, it's your mother," the voice said.

"Hi, Mum, how are you? Sorry I haven't been over for ages..I've been …busy." Harry replied somewhat guiltily. In fact he hadn't been over to see her since he had been back to work, but they did chat on the phone from time to time.

"Oh, I'm fine, thank you and I hadn't really been expecting you every week, I know how stressful your job is," she said kindly.

"I was just watching the news, I know you were working on the Van Buren case. I'm so glad that little boy's been found, they said he was found by a pathologist working on the case, I was just wondering…" she trailed off.

"I just had to find him mum, I don't know why? I just knew I had to do it." Harry said suddenly.

"Well, you did it, I'm proud of you, and I bet the family is overjoyed to have their boy back. So much sadness in one family, such a shame," she continued.

"There was something else too, there's a big investigation in Madrid at the moment about the Clinica San Ramon, 261 family members are bringing a case against the authorities claiming that their babies, were taken from them for adoption and they were told they were dead. Apparently it started in Franco's time and continued until the late 80's. The leader Antonio Barroso said he would go to the European court of human rights if they didn't get justice."*

"The world can be a horrible place sometimes Mum," Harry said sadly but he was unsurprised. He wondered what vultures had moved into the places left vacant by his little upset in Hungary. They wouldn't be vacant for long, not when there was good money to be made.

"Have you ever dreamed of your little girl with the elephants again?" Anne asked.

"Whatever made you remember that?" Harry said in astonishment.

"Oh, I don't know, something about you searching for that lost boy, and all this baby snatching made me remember it, she seemed so real to you at the time," Anne explained.

"I haven't dreamed about her for a while," he admitted. "The last few times she was just sat on a garden bench, in her little red coat, crying, I tried to ask what was wrong but she wouldn't tell me, she just kept crying and said 'you can't make this all better by hugging me.' I still don't think they mean anything."

"Harry, I know you didn't know Anna very long, but I can't help wondering…. Is there anything you want to tell me?"

Harry groaned, he'd dreaded this day but there didn't seem much harm in admitting the truth now.

"Anna was pregnant when she died Mum, and it was my child," he said slowly.

"Thank you for telling me Harry, I know that wasn't easy for you. I really am very sorry, you know,"

"Harry?" she asked after a long pause. "The little girl you saw, what did she look like?"

"What does it matter Mum?" Harry muttered.

"You know, dark hair, dark eyes, light hair light eyes, dark hair light eyes, not every detail just an overview, I'm curious," she said.

"Mum!"

"Oh come on Harry, I'll forgive you all those weeks you haven't come to see me!"

"Mum!" he said again but with a slight laugh.

"Erm light hair, dark eyes, beautiful smile," he rattled off.

"See I knew you knew," she replied.

"So can I go now? Is the interrogation over?" Harry asked.

"Wait a minute," his mother said, her brain processing all that had been said. "You said, light hair and dark eyes, didn't you?"

"Yes! Harry replied. "Light hair and dark eyes."

"It's just that photo they showed on the news of Anna a while back; she had dark hair and light eyes."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked. "My eyes are dark."

"Maybe nothing after all, sorry Harry, I didn't mean to go on. I just didn't want you wasting more time searching for the wrong sort of elephants," she explained.

"Mum!" Harry interjected again.

"How's Nikki? I've not spoken to her for a long time either." Anne asked.

"Same as usual," Harry replied but he knew that wasn't true.

"Look Mum, I was just going to start some work, I'll call you later in the week. Maybe I can come on Sunday?" he offered.

"You can let me know, Harry, I don't mind really I don't. Well done on finding that boy though."

"Thanks Mum, good night."

"Good night love."

Harry put down the phone and opened his drawer to look for a pen. He was going to write to James Sabiston and he was going to tell him exactly what he thought of him and his pathologist for hire schemes and make it very clear that if he upset any of them again he would find a way to make sure he would never work again. He couldn't believe he'd even considered going to work with him.

'Senior pathologist' that had been it of course, a quick boost for his ego but he couldn't go and leave Nikki behind. He could barely function without her friendship and from the look in her eyes earlier today, she had similar thoughts.

He still hadn't managed to find his pen in his drawer. It really had been ages since he'd sat down and written a proper letter. He pulled out some papers that had been stuck at the top to get a better view. He was surprised to find one with his name on in Nikki's handwriting. He opened it up and read:

"This is exactly how I felt, when I thought you were dead." His hand began to shake as he read the poem and slowly very slowly he began to realise why Nikki was as she was and why it was all going wrong.

_if you, beloved, my love,_

_if you have died,_

_all the leaves will fall on my breast,_

_it will rain on my soul night and day,_

_the snow will burn my heart,_

_I shall walk with frost and fire and death and snow,_

_my feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping,_

_but I shall stay alive,_

_because above all things you wanted me_

_indomitable, and, my love, because you know that I am not only a man_

_but all mankind._

He couldn't stop the tears from falling, he didn't even want to. How could he have been so blind?

* * *

***The Guardian: Friday 28th January 2011 'Spain seeks truth on baby trafficking claims' With thanks to my Mum, who found the articles.**

**And excerpt from "Dead Woman" by Pablo Neruda**

**Not much more to go...hope you haven't given up there will be fluff...eventually :)**


	41. Chapter 41

**Forty-One**

Harry did have lunch with his mother that Sunday. He knew she wouldn't press him any more on what they had talked about on the phone. He loved that about her, her father had been an army man, and had brought them all up to deal with a problem and then forget it; wallowing and rehashing an old argument were strictly forbidden. So he figured he was on safe territory and it really was time he went to see her. She had helped him so much when he ill.

The horse chestnut tree at the far end of the garden had already turned brown and there were plenty of leaves for him to rake. He only stopped when he couldn't physically squash anymore leaves into her garden waste bin.

'If Nikki had been here, I could have lifted her up into the bin and she could have stamped the leaves down to make more space,' he thought.

"If Nikki were here…." he said out loud.

'Why had she left him that note? When had she left him the note? And why had she just shoved it in his drawer and not given it to him?' he wondered. He knew she had been in pain when she thought he was dead. He had seen it; felt it even, as he'd caught her as she fell, and he had clasped her to himself. She had wriggled round to face him, and he saw her unguarded emotions in her eyes, the despair turning to shock, shock turning to …. turning to love? Is that what he had seen? He was beginning to suspect he wouldn't recognise love if it walked up and slapped him in the face. But Nikki had found something to describe what she felt and she had put it in his drawer for him to find.

He thought back to when he had last sat at his desk at home to do any work. Not since he'd been back at work he decided. So it could have been in there for weeks. Where would she have found a poem about love and death? And had she expected him to have found it by now?

'The grief support group!' he suddenly realised. He had brought a whole load of papers home from the support group. He had just assumed his maid had tidied them away, but Nikki must have read them, or moved them. He thought back to that night. He had been drunk and he had behaved miserably to her. He had thought she was just being a good friend to him, looking after him in his time of need, but was there more, did she actually love him? Maybe that was why Anna had chosen to show up in his dreams that day; jealousy finally spurring her on.

His life was a mess.

He went inside to get cleaned up, and he revelled in the smell of the dinner coming from the kitchen. It was just beginning to turn cold and a hot meal cooked by his Mum suddenly seemed the perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

"I've been thinking about love, Mum," Harry admitted quietly whilst finishing off his second glass of wine.

"That sounds dangerous," she replied. He realised how Nikki must feel sometimes, when she finally plucked up the courage to ask him a serious question and he always deflected it, with some silly one liner. No wonder she just left him notes in his desk.

"Love can mean a lot of different things to a lot of different people," Anne said more seriously.

"It's just that, the other day I took Marina, one of the girls I helped to meet her daughter."

"One of the mothers who was told their babies were dead?" Anne asked.

"Exactly so, we watched the girl playing in a garden for a while, we had an appointment, the parents knew we were coming, the daughter knew we were coming, but not why. But Marina wouldn't go in. She must have loved that girl and yet she didn't want to spoil that girl's happiness and her perfect life as it was. How could she do that? And the Van Buren's hiding all that stuff from each other, it sent all of them mad" Harry said.

"Love makes people do strange things." Anna said.

"You're father loved you Harry, and yet he thought we would be better off without him. He made that choice Harry and maybe he was right, maybe he wasn't but at the time he would have thought he was doing the right thing." Anne explained.

"But to be prepared to give up everything, for someone else, I don't think I've felt that way about anyone, really. Do you think there's something wrong with me?"

"Oh Harry!" his Mum chuckled. "Of course you have, I know you have, that you do, you just don't recognise it yet."

"Please tell me you are not going to start talking about elephants again!" Harry laughed.

"No, no elephants today, Harry. Do you still dream of Anna?" she asked.

"Not much anymore. I don't think I remember my dreams so much now. I tend to dream of her when Nikki's around," he admitted.

"What a coincidence," his mother replied lightly but there was just something in her voice that made Harry stop.

"What do you mean?" Harry probed.

"I mean it's a coincidence that you dream of Anna when you are with Nikki," his mother replied.

"Do you think Anna is jealous?" Harry asked thinking back to his train of thought as he swept up the leaves.

"Jealous? No I'm sure that's not why she turns up. I'm saying that love makes you do strange things."

"Mum? Is there something you're not telling me?" Harry asked pointedly.

"Not me, dear. Maybe this is a conversation you should be having with Nikki," she smiled.

* * *

**Just so you don't think I'm completely mad, most places in England have biweekly collections of garden waste, so in peak gardening seasons the sight of grown adults compressing their garden waste, into the wheelie bins the day before the collection is not uncommon. You need an average sized child or small adult for maximum effect. I once compacted mine so well, it didn't empty fully when tipped into the truck. DOH!**


	42. Chapter 42

**Forty-Two**

The next week at work was hell, Harry had put his life back together working on certain assumptions and he was beginning to think he had got it all disastrously wrong. He went to talk to Leo to see if he could help.

"Leo," Harry asked. "Does Nikki seem right to you?"

"What on earth do you mean?" Leo replied, poking his head round the door to look at her.

"She looks the same to me."

"But how long has she been like that?" Harry asked again.

"Like what?" Leo asked in confusion.

"Like that!" Harry pointed in the direction of the door.

"Nikki works very hard, she is a very dedicated individual and she has had a difficult year, she is always here on time, rarely disappears for parts of the day and doesn't fall asleep at her desk." Leo said and Harry didn't miss the jibes at his expense.

"Yes, I know all that, but there's something missing." Harry explained.

"Welcome back Harry," muttered Leo and picked up his phone.

Harry realised he was dismissed and wandered back to his desk.

'Welcome back' what was that supposed to mean?

"Do you ever go out anymore?" Harry suddenly asked Nikki.

"What? Sorry? Wasn't listening," she mumbled.

"Do you ever go out anymore? You know to friend's birthdays or whatever," he repeated.

"Sometimes," she said cagily. "Not often now, Sophie's got two kids, Liz is in New York and Charlotte's been with her boyfriend for a few years now. What about you?"

"No," he said. "I've not felt like it, and anyway I couldn't bring any woman back to my flat now could I? She'd walk in to a cupboard half full of women's clothes and a bathroom stocked with make-up and sanitary items, what am I supposed to say? My sister stays over when she's in town?"

"Are you asking me to move my stuff out, Harry? Because if you are, if you need your glorious bachelor pad back for some young conquest you're working on, you only have to ask," she said angrily.

"No, Nikki, I'm not, I'm really not. I love you can stay over without it being a hassle and our Friday nights and ..." Harry stopped he'd used the **L** word in that sentence and he hadn't even realised until now. He needed to say something else quickly.

"You don't laugh enough anymore." Harry stated.

"Maybe you're not as funny as you think you are," she retorted.

"We're not the same; it's not the same, is it?" He looked at her across the desks, willing her to meet his eyes.

"No, it's not the same Harry," she said wearily but meeting his gaze. She couldn't help a gleam of anticipation from shining in her eyes, even though she knew inevitably this would not be the moment when everything changed. It was never the moment when everything changed.

"It's not better either is it?" Harry asked sadly.

"No, it's not," she said turning back to her work.

"Nikki?"

"Yes, Harry," she replied.

"We never did get that lunch the other Sunday. Can I take you to dinner tonight instead?" he asked.

Nikki stared at him; maybe she could give him one last chance. She could do that couldn't she? One last chance.

"That would be lovely Harry," she smiled.


	43. Chapter 43

**Forty-Three**

Harry was on his best behaviour throughout the dinner. Nikki couldn't fault him; he was charming, attentive and genuinely funny. She even found herself, smiling and laughing, she slowly began to let her defences down. They chatted easily and light heartedly, she knew it wouldn't last. It couldn't last, it never did but maybe they could have some fun before it all had to end.

"My mum said something strange the other day," Harry admitted.

"Strange how? What were you talking about?" Nikki could already feel the hair on the back of her neck standing up.

"We were talking about the strange things people do for love..."

"You were what!" Nikki said flabbergasted. "Are you sure you weren't having a nightmare?"

"Come on, Nik's, my Mum and I talk." Harry insisted.

"No you don't!" she laughed, "You talk to her even less than you talk to me!"

"Well, as I said," he made a big show of carrying on despite her interruptions. "We were talking about the strange things people do for love and ..."

"No, I've got to stop you there," Nikki laughed, interrupting him again. "I need details; you have to prove this was real, because so far I'm not buying it."

"Oh alright then," Harry said throwing his hands up in the air. "I was telling her about Marina."

Nikki couldn't suppress a shiver. She had known this was going to end badly. She had suspected there was more to his relationship with Marina than he was letting on. Maybe that was what had prompted all his talk about dating this afternoon. Is that why he had brought her here? To tell her he was dating Marina?

Harry was babbling away regardless, she tuned in again quickly.

"How could she walk away from her child like that?" Harry asked.

"Hunh?" Nikki asked.

"Nikki, have you been listening? Marina! She wouldn't even meet her daughter because she was worried that she would spoil the girl's happy, innocent life. How can you love someone and decide that the best thing is not to be with them?" Harry asked.

"Oh, I don't know Harry," Nikki said sarcastically, recalling all the ways she had imagined leaving him recently. "Maybe because you know the other person won't love you back?" she paused briefly. "You and Marina are getting on well then," she asked.

"Marina? Nikki you don't think, she's ten years younger than I am!"

"It's not stopped you in the past," Nikki said bitterly.

Harry looked away sadly, there were a lot of things in his life he wasn't proud of.

"Nikki, I wasn't trying to talk to you about Marina, you made me take that detour, that's not what I wanted to say. There is nothing between Marina and me. My mum and I were talking about the strange things people do for love and she said that I should be having this conversation with you."

"I told you, you talk to me more than you do your Mum!" Nikki said, beginning to feel on more solid ground again.

"But why would she say that? It was as if she knew that you had something to tell me about it." Harry said.

"About people doing strange things for love?" Nikki asked and she couldn't stop her voice from shaking. Now it wasn't Marina she was worried about, there was something far more dangerous in the air.

"What exactly were you talking about when she said you should speak to me?" Nikki asked warily.

"Just what I said, the strange things people do for love," he replied.

"There wasn't anything else?" Nikki pressed him.

You really want to know?" Harry said carefully.

"Of course," Nikki said. "You started this whole strange conversation."

"I told her I only dreamt of Anna when I was with you, I wondered if it was because Anna was jealous."

"Jealous!" repeated Nikki with a mixture of hysteria and relief. "Why? Why would Anna be jealous of me?" spluttered Nikki.

"Because you're alive!" Harry stated.

"Is that why you hate me?" Nikki asked.

Harry opened his mouth in shock but no words came out.

"No, I'm sorry don't answer that Harry, I'm sorry, I know that's not true. It's just that tonight, we've had fun haven't we? It was just like old times; let's keep it like that please. A night to remember, please Harry, please. Don't say anymore now. Tomorrow is Friday, I'll come over tomorrow and we'll talk then, I promise. But not tonight, not any more please, Harry please," she begged.

He didn't know what had got her so agitated, but he had to agree with her as he didn't want a scene. This was one of his favourite restaurants. He poured her some water and gave her a shy smile.

"I don't hate you, Nikki" he whispered and covered her hand with his own.

Nikki didn't offer to make Harry coffee when he dropped her off at her flat. She promised him that she would go to his flat tomorrow and tell him what he wanted to know. She leant over and kissed him on the cheek in the car, taking great care not to look into his eyes.

"Thanks, Harry, it's been a lovely evening," she said and disappeared up the stairs.

'This would be their last night together,' NIkki reasoned and she wanted it to end well because tomorrow she had to tell him. She had to tell him about the lies. Tell him the real reason Anna only showed up in his dreams when she was there and then he would hate her, really hate her, and all she would be able to do would be to crawl away somewhere and die.

* * *

**Ok maybe a bit melodramatic, but bless her she's not had a great couple of months. :)**


	44. Chapter 44

**Forty-Four**

Harry's day was going from bad to worse and there had been parts that had been so promising. He had really enjoyed being with Nikki this evening, before well before, before she accused him of wanting to date Marina, and telling him he hated her. He couldn't imagine what was going through her mind. He had planned it all so differently. He was sure she would have the answer for him. It's what his mother had told him wasn't it? He had to have the conversation with Nikki. Nikki would explain the strange things people do for love. Well she had promised to talk to him tomorrow, but that didn't help him today. Today was definitely getting stranger and stranger.

He thought about their conversation. What could have made her think he hated her? She was vital to him, more a part of himself than his past, his family his friends, how did she not see that? 'Did he see her so much as an extension of himself that she felt the weight of his self-loathing fall on her?' he wondered. He didn't hate her, so what did he feel about her? Was that love? Not being able to make it through the day without having her near? It didn't sound like love; it sounded more like a dependent personality disorder.

He pulled out the poem she had left in his drawer for him. That was a love poem but he couldn't relate to it at all. The page had been photocopied from a book and so idly he read the poem on the other side. It didn't have an inspiring title:

_Sonnet 17 Pablo Neruda_

_I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,_

_or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off._

_I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,_

_in secret, between the shadow and the soul._

_I love you as the plant that never blooms_

_but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;_

_thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,_

_risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body_

_I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where._

_I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;_

_so I love you because I know no other way_

_than this: where I does not exist, nor you,_

_so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,_

_so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep._

That was more like it he thought but he still wasn't sure if it was love. 'He was as inseparable from Nikki as he was his right hand, well left hand,' he thought, was that what this bloke was going on about? He wished it were written down in scientific terms somewhere. A nice theorem or equation; those he could deal with.

It was as if Nikki was hiding something from him, something she didn't want him to find out. But it couldn't be the fact that she had feelings for him, because she was the one to put that poem in his desk in the first place. Maybe at the time it had meant something to her, but this long road of recovery he had been on had suffocated the life from them with all the negative emotion. But that was nothing that his mother would know about.

He started to get ready for bed, but he wasn't sure why he was bothering. There was no way he would be able to rest tonight.

* * *

**Again, I get no brownie points for this poem either, it popped up when I googled the one I did know, but I just love those last two lines. I know I promised fluff, it is just around the corner. Honest.**


	45. Chapter 45

**Thanks to tigpop, Thyqua, doctorwho-fanatic2010, pinkswallowsun and Lizziginne for their collective 'oh no!' reviews, (and not in a bad way I hasten to add.) The whole thing is so much more fun when you join in, you're brilliant. **

**Forty-Five**

Nikki avoided Harry all day at work and stayed mainly in the cutting room, but he could feel her. Zak had a long conversation with Harry, about football. Harry didn't have the slightest interest in football, but he could tell the poor boy was terrified of another hour alone with Nikki, so had taken pity on him for a while. There was a storm brewing to be sure, if only he could figure out what it was about.

He left promptly at five, it was his week to sort out dinner; there was no point in having an important conversation before Nikki had some food. Her temper could be really evil when her blood sugar was low. He was busy cooking, when he heard her open the door. She left it open as she had done for him all these last months. It was the only door he still had left to conquer.

"I've been on my feet all day!" she grumbled flopping onto the sofa.

"That smells good," she added and then after a while.

"I'm sorry for what I said last night Harry, I didn't mean it, you just caught me off guard."

"It's ok," Harry replied. "The food's ready, if you are."

"Thanks Harry," she said sitting down at his table. Such an enormous flat and such a little dining table, it seemed a bit incongruous really.

Harry noted that Nikki was taking it easy on the wine tonight. She was doing her best to chat freely with him, but he could see the tell-tale signs of a sleepless night and something else. He studied her throughout the meal trying to figure out when he'd seen her with that exact expression before. It was as he tidied the plates over to the sink he remembered what it was. It was the expression she wore when she was about to break the news to a family member of their loved one's death. His heart sank. Was she finally going to leave him?

He picked up his wine and sat down on the sofa to wait.

"Harry," she said eventually. He was surprised her to see how red her eyes were, when he looked up at her. Had she been crying all this time?

"You have something to tell me Nikki." Harry said calmly.

"Yes, I have," she replied. "I want you to listen, and try not to interrupt, I'm sure you are not going to like it, but I didn't know what else to do at the time and I have thought long and hard about it, and given the same events I would probably do it again." She said this all clearly as if stating the case for the defence.

Harry nodded his head to show his agreement.

"When you returned from Hungary, you were a mess, there were times when I worried that I couldn't cope and that hospitalization really was the only answer but I knew it would kill you and so I persevered, Harry."

Harry's eyes grew wide as he watched her, willing them to show her how thankful he was but he kept his promise and didn't interrupt.

"But you didn't get better. Physically your wounds healed, but mentally even with all the help of your therapist, you were still lost. You weren't Harry anymore. It made me sad and lonely, it made your mother depressed. You were lost somewhere and we couldn't find you. I had promised her during that awful awful phone conversation from Hungary that I would bring you home, but each week we went to see her and you were there, but you weren't there. It broke her heart. She begged me to help, every week, even when I didn't go, she pleaded and pleaded until one day I couldn't cope any longer and I gave in."

"Nikki, I know I'm listening, I haven't concentrated so hard on anything before in my whole life, but I didn't get the last bit. Please tell me what you did? It can't be that bad. What did my mother ask you to do?" Harry asked seriously.

He had moved across to where she sat on the sofa and pulled her hands away from her face and held them in his own.

Nikki looked into his eyes.

"Your mother told me that after your dad had died, you never got better, you never moved on until you had the chance to express your feelings about what your father had done. But she knew you. You were not really one to just start talking about your emotions, just like she doesn't and so when you had nightmares, she began to talk to you. Half awake and half asleep she was able to get through to you and you were able to talk about how you felt about your Dad."

"Twilight time?" asked Harry, his aching brain searching his memory for all that had happened on those Sunday afternoons. "Is that why she started singing to you, I thought I'd dreamt it,"

"Exactly," said Nikki.

"But what's so wrong about that?" Harry asked. "Why do you look as if you are about to tell me someone died? What does it have to do with you? Or the strange things people do for love, I don't understand."

"She wanted me, to let you talk, say how you really felt about Anna, get that closure you so desperately needed." Nikki explained.

"But I still don't see why you're making this out to be the most heinous crime ever committed? I'm the one here who is responsible for three deaths and a lot of heartache."

"We've been there, Harry. You are not responsible!" she said.

"So what's the big deal? She just wanted me to talk." Harry exclaimed, exasperated.

Nikki paused and took a deep breath, she dropped her eyes from his and stared at their entwined hands.

"She didn't just let you talk about your father Harry. She pretended to be your father, so you could talk face to face."

"And?" asked Harry.

Nikki sighed and pulled her hands out of Harry's and said.

"The reason you only dream of Anna when I stay over, is not because Anna is jealous, but because you don't dream and talk to Anna, not really. You talk to me. I wait until your nightmare has past, I hold you in my arms and rock you to sleep and then I quietly call your name.

And I tell you I'm Anna.

And I tell you I'm sorry.

And I tell you that I love you and I forgive you.

And and … it's not Anna, it's not. It's me. I've been lying to you and I can't forgive myself."

She could feel Harry's stare burning her face but she carried on.

"I only did it the first time when I thought you would be too drunk to remember, but it was if I had suddenly found you; the real you and then I couldn't help myself. When I could see the blackness descending in your eyes, the lost and haunted look reappearing, I would come, and stay with you and whisper to you in the night in her voice, that everything would be alright, and for a while it was. I'm sorry Harry, I didn't know what to do, I know it's wrong but I missed you so much, so much…" She couldn't speak any more because of the sobs that flowed from somewhere deep inside her.

"The strange things people do for love?" Harry asked but there was the hurt of betrayal in his voice, and his body was tight and upright again as he sat back away from her and he made no attempt to comfort his sobbing friend.

"If you like," she snivelled.

She could feel Harry sitting rigidly straight and still next to her. He hadn't said anything else. He hadn't shouted. He hadn't kicked her out. He hadn't done anything at all.

He had disappeared into one of his silent places he hadn't been to for a while.

She started to stand up and immediately felt a hand shoot out, grab hers and pull her back down roughly.

"I want to say goodbye," Harry growled, his eyes dark and his face menacing.

"Sorry?" Nikki said, so stunned by the look on his face she hadn't actually heard what he had said.

"I want to say goodbye," he repeated.

"Goodbye," Nikki cried her tears falling thick and fast. She had expected a big row, but not this, not this abrupt end. She pulled herself to her feet to leave.

"Not to you," he growled again tugging her back into the seat. "To her. To Anna."

She had thought she had envisaged every possible scenario the previous night, as she had played them all out in her head. She had rehearsed each one over and over, scripting her response, her every move and every gesture until her exhausted brain had finally shut down and she had slept for the last couple of hours before the dawn.

But she hadn't thought of this one, this was a whole new level of horror, even from the depth of the darkness that her consciousness had stumbled through in the blackness of the previous night.

Nikki trembled violently, she hated that he still had the capacity to scare her, not him, never him but this mental thing this psychosis, this evil that gripped him. She didn't want this to be her last memory of him when he inevitably said goodbye to her next, her purpose served.

"Now!" he demanded. He still had tight hold of her hand, there was no way she could do anything other than sit by his side.

"It won't work," Nikki cried, "It only works when you're asleep."

"Let's find out then shall we?" he snarled.

* * *

**Remember 'oh no' could be an appropriate review! Go on give it a try, it's four letters, how hard is that?**


	46. Chapter 46

**For Anne1119 who's wanted Anna back for a while!**

**Forty-Six**

"I can't," whispered Nikki, "Not like this." They were sat side by side, hand in hand but each surrounded by an invisible impenetrable fortress of fear and self-preservation.

Harry sat back in his chair and let go of her hand, he made his body relax and take on his habitual fluid curves again, he closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing.

Nikki watched him, her tears falling more slowly now, as she tried to calm herself down, to do one last time what he wanted. When she felt slightly calmer she gently reached out and stroked his arm. She was expecting him to flinch or respond in some way, but he just stayed silent and immoveable.

"Harry?" she called quietly. She would really have to work at the accent today.

"Harry, it's Anna," she said in the sing song voice that he always responded to. She heard him gasp so she carried on.

"How have you been Harry? It's been a long time since I saw you?" Nikki asked.

Harry stayed resolutely quiet and still. Nikki didn't know what to do. What did he want? He wanted to end it with Anna but how? Surely he didn't want another blazing row, that wouldn't work. But what was she supposed to say. 'Actually Harry I've been dead for nearly four months, perhaps it's time for you to move on. See ya!'

"Harry, we had some fun times didn't we?" she said purposely keeping her voice light. "I want you to think about the happy times. I know I took advantage of you in Amsterdam, I lied about being on the pill but Harry you are not entirely innocent. What man sleeps with a stranger at a conference without using protection in this day and age? There are far too many diseases around for that. I think you were looking to change your life too."

"You're drifting towards Afrikaans," Harry mumbled.

Nikki ignored his comment and carried on. Anna was a lawyer, she was bright what would she say?

"Harry, when I met you I took a chance. I liked my life ordered, and organised and I saw you and you were handsome, funny and fiercely intelligent. I knew you just wanted a little fun, we had a little fun, we had a lot of fun, but Harry there is a tide that comes with age, a current that pulls and pulls that screams that fun is not enough anymore. Screams that there needs to be something lasting, something permanent, something… someone to remember us when we are gone. Harry I was being pulled along by that current, that's why I took that chance. Your child, our child would have been just as handsome and witty and clever and maybe we could have been good together, but I pushed you too hard and too quickly because I had been pulled out of my depth by that current and I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to do and then it was too late. There's never as much time as you think," she paused and looked across at Harry.

He was still in the same position but there were tear tracks on his face.

She picked up his hand and kissed it, holding it against her face.

"I don't want to say goodbye Anna," Harry suddenly cried out.

"It's time, Harry." Nikki replied.

"I'm so proud of you, Harry," Nikki continued. "You are a good man, Harry I want you to be happy. You can find that change you were looking for."

"But how can I be happy without you, without our daughter?" Harry answered.

"That baby was never meant to be, Harry. The girl, she is just a dream, it's nothing to do with me. I love you Harry Cunningham," Nikki said clearly. "But it's time for me to go now, remember the good times Harry, please. Remember for me."

"I don't want you to go!" Harry choked.

"It's time Harry, I have to," Nikki leant over and kissed him softly on the lips. She had never kissed him in Anna's guise, or only on the back of the head, scared that he might respond.

"I think perhaps I did love you," Harry admitted as Nikki broke off the kiss.

"Of course you did Harry, I never doubted you, but you need to move on now. It's time. Goodbye Harry." Nikki said.

"Goodbye Anna," Harry replied, snatching one last kiss from her lips as Nikki leapt from the sofa and ran out of the flat. She let the door slam quickly behind her.


	47. Chapter 47

**Forty-Seven**

Out in the hallway she stood shivering uncontrollably. The end of September had turned chilly and she could feel her body going into shock. She didn't know what to do, her bag was inside; she couldn't go home without her keys. But she couldn't go back to Harry. What would she say? She sat down on the top step, worried that she might fall if she remained standing, and put her head in her hands. There were no more tears now just shock and despair.

"Mrs Harry!" she heard voices and raised her head to the sight of Harry's Japanese neighbours.

"Are you alright? Mrs Harry have you been fighting again? Are you hurt? Do you need help? We thought things get better, we not hear so much shouting recently." Kazuo explained.

Nikki climbed to her feet.

"No, no shouting, we were just saying goodbye," Nikki mumbled.

"But Mrs Harry?" Kazuo asked.

"I'm not his wife, Kazuo, I'm not even his girlfriend, I'm just Nikki. Nikki." She said holding out her hand, realising that she had never properly introduced herself all this time. No wonder they called her Mrs Harry. Hadn't Harry said that to her once?

"Pleased to meet you," said Kazuo graciously. "My wife; Sachiko," he continued.

"Hello," Nikki said.

"We are going back to Japan, next week, the summer is over." Kazuo said.

"Yes, the summer is over," said Nikki tiredly. "Did you enjoy your trip?"

"Yes, very interesting, we learn much about what English people are really like." Sachiko said.

'I'm sure you did' thought Nikki wondering what they made of their curious neighbours. She began to shiver again.

"You are cold!" said Sachiko, "and you are too proud to go back in?" she asked.

"Yes," said Nikki humbly and truthfully.

"Pride!" said Kazuo, "now there's an emotion we Japanese know about!" Meanwhile Sachiko was taking off her jacket and putting it on Nikki.

"Good," she said, "The colour suits you, and fortunate you are not big fat English lady or it not fit," she continued as she pushed the corded buttons through the holes.

"You take a walk in the park, you look at the trees, you calm down and you come back to Harry. Please?" Kazuo suggested.

"Why does it matter to you?" Nikki asked incredulously. "We have ruined your summer with our shouting, and smoke alarms and everything."

"No, you haven't ruined our summer. You tell me Harry very sad man, that his friend died" Kazuo explained. "Well I think you are Harry's friend now and Harry not so sad when he with you," he continued. "You go to park, you sit for a while and then come back. Please?"


	48. Chapter 48

**Forty-Eight**

Nikki walked across the central path in the park, she was glad of Sachiko's jacket, it kept out the wind. It was still light but the sun had lost its warmth. Unsure of what to do she followed Kazuo's instructions and sat down on a bench. She could call Leo, she thought. He would come and get her but what would she tell him? No scrap that she thought. Even her phone was in Harry's flat. She would have to go back.

It would be her turn then, her turn to say goodbye to him. It was what she had wanted wasn't it? A clean break. A chance to get away, move on. She would go back and collect her bag and tell him goodbye. But not yet, not just yet, however much pain she was in now the thought of finally ending everything with Harry was too awful.

"Do you mind if I sit down?" an elderly man said. "Only my wife and I always like this bench, lovely view of the sunset."

"Go ahead," she said noting that the man was alone. Just what she needed more ghosts.

"So what did he do?" the man asked after a while.

"I beg your pardon?" Nikki said.

"I asked what he did? I'm assuming that you're not sat out here crying for your own benefit at seven thirty at night, it'll be dark soon."

Nikki let out a wry laugh.

"No, I'm not, but it's more my fault than his," Nikki replied.

"Oh," the man said regarding her with a smile. "Then I shan't feel sorry for you at all! I'm Ron by the way."

"Pleased to meet you, Ron. I'm Nikki," she said, shaking Ron's offered hand.

"Is he worth it? All this sadness?" Ron asked.

Nikki looked up at Ron, startled by the question from the stranger. She hadn't got anything to lose if she answered honestly.

"I thought so, I'm not sure anymore. He doesn't love me, he can't love me now," she explained.

"Such melodrama, this is better than those soaps on the telly Gladys used to watch." Ron chuckled.

"Sorry, if I don't find it so funny, it is my life you know." Nikki said haughtily.

"Sorry love," Ron replied. "Whatever you've done, it can't be that bad, look at you, you're beautiful, you're smart, you're kind enough to talk to a crazyy old man on a park bench. He's a fool if he doesn't see what a treasure you are. I'd marry you in a second if it were up to me."

Nikki chuckled at that. Ron was way off the mark, this was nothing to do with marriage!

"Look at that!" Ron said. "You're even more beautiful when you're eyes aren't so puffy from crying. You have a wonderful smile. It's a deal then."

Nikki knew Ron was flirting outrageously with her; it was ridiculous, he was way over 70, but he was funny and he was cheering her up. He reminded her of Harry in a way, that wasn't such a happy thought.

"I lied to him," Nikki admitted.

"I was the only person he trusted, and I betrayed him. He won't forgive me, I know he won't and so I'll have to leave him. Leave my job, leave my friends, leave London."

"So you don't reckon he'll come out here looking for you then?" Ron asked.

"Harry!" she spluttered. "No, he won't come after me, not after a fight like that. It's not his style. Not after what I said to him."

"Are you sure?" Ron asked.

"Why?" Nikki replied.

"Only there's a bloke over there, see the lanky fellow, sticking up hair, I've been watching him. He's just run round the whole of the outside of the park and now he's coming up this path.

Nikki looked and gasped, it was Harry and he was running towards her.

He got within shouting distance and then stopped and stared. She knew he'd seen her, but he doubled over clinging onto a dustbin and looked like he was fighting for breath.

"He's not got a heart condition, has he?" asked Ron.

"He don't look so good love, shall I call a doctor?" he continued.

"He is a doctor," Nikki replied. "So am I," she gestured in Harry's direction. "He'll be fine!"

"I knew you were smart," Ron said proudly. "Are you going to go talk to him?"

"Maybe,"

Ron gave her a hard stare.

"When he's ready," she replied.

**I hope you enjoyed! Just a bit more to go and the promised fluff is growing ever closer...**


	49. Chapter 49

**Now I know I promised you fluff, but I never promised it would be good. (Sorry having fluff angst…so I'm off to hide behind the sofa now, let me know when it's safe to come out!)**

**Forty-Nine**

Harry had heard the door slam, he knew it was Anna. He knew she had finally left, or was it Nikki? He sat where he was trying to make sense of all that had happened. He hardly knew how to think. How many of his thoughts were down to him, and how much had been put in his head when he was sleeping? If Nikki had done it, what if his mother had too? How much of what he knew about Anna was still Anna and not Nikki? And how could Nikki say all those things? Despite the images of Anna he conjured up in his mind, it was still Nikki's voice he'd heard telling him she loved him, telling him he was ready to take a chance, telling him goodbye… whatever 'accent' she was trying to use.

But then hadn't he always known? He was a scientist, he believed in hard facts not dreams and fancies. He cleared his brain and tried to find the facts of those nights. He knew for a fact that he felt a woman holding him, he knew from deep within himself that that woman was the most important thing in his life. He knew that her words were the only words that ever calmed his soul. Had he just assumed it was Anna, because he thought that was what he was meant to be feeling? It was always Nikki's voice after all, was it actually Nikki he needed to hear tell him that she loved him? That she forgave him for those atrocities in Hungary. Was it Nikki he loved?

He started to pace. He had joked about loving her, before all this had started he remembered. He stopped pacing and gently knocked his head against the wall.

He thought back to all that Nikki had just said, Anna was young, it wasn't her biological clock ticking loudly and pulling her inexorably towards motherhood. Anna was all about status and needing to be loved unconditionally, probably to make up for what she felt was lacking from her own parents. Or maybe even her real parents. That was her reason for wanting a child he reasoned. This other voice; the one talking about being out of control and swept along by a current; that had to be Nikki. 'There's never as much time as you think,' he remembered, scrubbing his face with the heel of his hand, that even sounded like Leo. How could he have fallen for this?

He looked to see if there was any more wine. The bottle was empty so he pulled out a beer and leaned back against the counter.

"Don't make the same mistake twice, please," he heard. He looked around, sure that he had heard someone but there was no one there, Nikki had gone he was alone. Definitely alone.

"Harry please," said the voice urgently. "Don't stand there drinking beer and wasting time when you can go and make a difference now."

"Anna?" he asked.

But there was no reply. It was just his conscience. His guilty conscience, talking louder now than ever before. Anna couldn't have known he was up on the terrace, drinking beer admiring the view and wondering if Budapest could really become his home, she was being suffocated and stabbed.

The beer tasted bitter in his mouth, all he had heard fogged his brain, faces and voices mixing and whirling. He felt as confused now as when he first returned home. He hadn't felt this lost, this troubled for weeks, but then had he felt anything much at all? All this time and he had never even realised he was depressed.

'Make a difference this time, there's never as much time as you think, grow up Harry.'

Now he was back to hearing Leo's voice in his head again intermixed with Anna's taunt. He grabbed his coat and ran out the door, when he heard it slam shut he was already two flights of stairs down.

'Where would she have gone?' he wondered. She hadn't taken her bag, she hadn't taken anything, so she couldn't be far. He crossed the road and started running around the edge of the park. He hadn't run since that horrific morning at the gym, all that time ago but this time he wasn't running away from anyone, he was running towards something, towards someone, towards his future.

He didn't recognise her at first, sitting on the bench with the old man, she had a different coat on, one he didn't remember. He didn't recognise her… didn't see what was right there in front of him and then as if he'd been struck by lightning he saw. Saul on the way to Damascus hadn't had such an epiphany*.

He saw, really saw, his chest constricted and he fought for air, he doubled over in pain and clutched at the nearest thing, which turned out to be a public bin. He clung on as hard as he could, willing his breathing to slow, his heart to stop roaring in his chest and the drumming in his ears to cease, so he could think. He didn't even notice the smell coming from the bin. As soon as he could he staggered a few more steps towards her and leant against a lamp post.

It was the way the sun had suddenly glinted off her hair; it had suddenly revealed the truth. There she was sitting on the park bench crying, in her little red oriental coat looking just like his daughter. Their daughter.

"You can't make this all better with a hug," he heard his little dream girl say accusingly. His little girl!

The one who would only stop crying when he held her under his chin.

The one who tried to show him the way when he was lost.

The one who took his space in the bed.

The one who preferred African elephants to Indian elephants.

And the one who left her drawings and lunch all over his desk! How had he been so blind? Why had it taken him so long?

Even his mother had known! Light hair, dark eyes, she knew exactly who the mother of his dream child was. And what was that bedtime book she'd made him read over and over again, the one where the chicken couldn't see what was right behind her. He was an idiot. It was Nikki, she was always right behind him, she had always been there, and he had taken her for granted.

He staggered the last few paces towards them.

He saw Nikki and the man raise their eyes expectantly.

* * *

_*** I know you are all clever types but just in case, Saul was a religious Jew who set about persecuting and martyring the early Christians. He went to Damascus to continue his work but on the way had a vision/met the risen Jesus Christ, he was struck blind and healed three days later by one of the Christians in Damascus he was going to persecute. He converted, changed his name to Paul and became one of the greatest Christian missionaries and wrote a large proportion of the New Testament. Acts Chapter 9**_


	50. Chapter 50

**Fifty**

"I'm an idiot," Harry blurted out.

"Glad to hear it, hello, nice to meet you, my name's Ron, I'd like you to meet my fiancée Nikki!"

"Ron!" Nikki laughed and batted him on the arm.

"No really Nikki, I'm an idiot, I should have realised, I should have noticed, I've just been so blind," he stammered.

"Damn right!" said Ron, "This girl is gorgeous, how long has it taken you to realise that? I've only known her for about ten minutes and I know that! Sorry am I not helping? Shall I push off now?"

"You came for the sunset," Nikki replied, "You don't want to miss it,"

Ron smiled and took her hand, "I'll not be able to marry you if I think you're in love with someone else," Ron said seriously.

Harry was becoming more and more exasperated, he had finally realised what had been staring him in the face for the last seven years and now some bloke, wouldn't leave them alone. He didn't know what to do.

"Are you in love with someone else?" Ron asked Nikki looking her straight in the eye.

Instead of being fed up, Harry suddenly began to take an interest in the old man's conversation. He wasn't in the way at all. He was leading them to where they needed to go; giving them the words to use, the words that they had never found for themselves in all these years. He dropped to the floor in front of Nikki and looked up at her.

"I am," Nikki replied looking at Harry.

"And you, Mr Idiot?" Ron began.

"Harry!" objected Harry.

"Alright then, Harry, Are you in love with my wonderful Nikki here? Because I shall warn you, if you break her heart again, I will find you and I will make you pay!"

Nikki made a half snorted giggle, through some more tears. Ron was brilliant.

"I am," said Harry. "I am in love her, I've always loved her, I just didn't know. I've never really been sure what love is and seem to confuse it with a lot of other things but I think I understand now. She is more to me than I could possibly explain."

"Are you sure you want him?" Ron asked Nikki, "he really is a bit of an idiot, but he does finally seem to have gained some kind of adult understanding of life, you're free to have him if you wish, but you know I'll be heartbroken!"

Nikki kissed Ron's hand.

"Thank you," she said and reached out to take one of Harry's hands and pulled him up to standing as she got up from the bench. Very delicately Harry placed a kiss on her lips. He pulled away and looked at her.

"I do, I really do Nikki, I love you." He kissed her gently again and threw his arm around her shoulder to walk home together.

"You two have a good life," Ron called after them. "I'm often here, come back and talk to me, every once in a while." He leant back on the bench and tenderly stroked the memorial plaque.

"Blimey Gladys, what a pair!" he laughed. "Way better than the telly though," and then he added "it's a beautiful sunset tonight love."

* * *

**Altogether now ahhh!**


	51. Chapter 51

**Fifty-One**

"You don't hate me?" Nikki asked cautiously as they walked arm in arm back across the park. "I am really sorry."

"I don't hate you Nikki, I've never hated you, I've overlooked you, I've mistreated you, I've taken you for granted but I have never ever hated you," he said seriously.

"Not even when I'm being pig-headed and stubborn?" she asked.

"Even then," he admitted.

"But I said all those things, I broke your trust Harry, I lied to you," she insisted.

"You didn't lie to me Nikki. Yes you told me you were Anna, but it wasn't real. The words you said, I know you thought you were pretending to be Anna, but they weren't her words, they were yours and they were true for you. Weren't they?" He stopped in his tracks and looked at her.

Nikki nodded.

"Everything you told me was the truth and I think somewhere, somehow I knew it was you, maybe it was just easier to believe it was Anna." Harry continued.

"It was you Nikki who told me time and again that you loved me and that you forgave me, that it wasn't my fault. They were all the words I desperately needed to hear from you, not her. It's always been about you but I was so wrapped up in everything else that I didn't realise and there's so much we could never talk about. Sometimes strange as it seems, we don't communicate well Nikki, and if Anna helped us to do that, then I can't be angry about it." Harry explained.

"I'm just sorry it's taken me so long," he admitted.

"What did you see?" Nikki asked as they passed the lamp post and bin where Harry had stopped earlier.

"The future," Harry replied.

"What?" Nikki asked. "You're not telling me that you are still chatting up girls half your age, ten years after you start drawing your pension! I thought we were starting something here."

"No," Harry laughed warmly, he could see how it could look that way to Nikki. "Do you remember when we first got back I dreamt of a baby?"

"Your child with Anna; the one that wouldn't stop crying and kicked you out the bed?" Nikki asked.

"Yes, that one," Harry smiled. "Well I had other dreams, I just never told you about them because they seemed to upset you, I felt like I had really got to know this girl, I knew I loved her, she was so perfect. But it was only just now that I realised what they were all about and how in these dreams the girl was really just trying to help me, she always tried to show me the way home, show me the truth."

"Which was?" Nikki prompted.

"Anna is not her mother." Harry said empirically.

"But she's your child?" Nikki asked again.

"Oh yes!" Harry confirmed.

Nikki looked up at him confused. She was pretty sure that she had experienced every emotion known to man in the last hour and a half but Harry just kept on surprising her.

"It was the way the sunlight glinted off your hair, I suddenly spotted the resemblance. I told you ages ago that if you're children turn into you, they will be very lucky and she is gorgeous Nikki, she's just like you. And there she was all grown up and sitting on a bench with me sometime in the future. She always wore a little red coat in my dreams, just like the one you are wearing now." He broke off from his speech to kiss her lightly again.

Nikki's eyes were wide like saucers. "You've been dreaming of **our** daughter all these months?"

"Apparently so," Harry admitted.

"So what do we do now?" she asked.

"We begin," replied Harry. "I know we've known each other for forever but this," he gestured to their interlinked arms, "this is new and we need to start at the beginning."

They had reached the outside of Harry's flat and instead of waiting to go in, Nikki scurried further along the corridor and knocked on the neighbour's door, taking off her coat as she did so. No one answered.

"Did you borrow Sachiko's coat?" Harry asked "I wondered where it came from, try them again tomorrow. Come home now," he said.

There was no need, to leave the door open anymore, but as they walked in Nikki suddenly felt nervous. She could sense Harry did too.

"This is weird," she said.

"Good weird, or strange weird?" said Harry in alarm.

"Erm, good weird. In all those films the hero and heroine just kiss, and everything else just seems to work out," she said.

"But this is real life isn't it?" admitted Harry. "And I'm as nervous as hell!"

"Me too!" she laughed "And I need the bathroom!"

Harry looked around his flat, Nikki had lived here for months but now this was different. Did he light candles, put on mood music? He suspected if he looked he wouldn't find any candles and he was pretty sure he was out of matches so he vaguely surveyed his music collection.

He didn't hear Nikki come up behind him and put her arms around him.

She looked over to where they had sat on the couch just an hour previously. How much had changed.

"How many nights have I spent like this?" she asked.

"More than you should have," he replied turning in her arms to face her. "I'm sorry I've been so slow Nikki. Thanks for waiting."

"I promised to bring you back Harry, I was never going to leave until I had," she said.

"You won't leave now?" he asked.

"I could never love anyone the way I love you, Harry."

"I know you couldn't, but I asked if you were going to leave?" he repeated. He knew he had to get things right, he knew that he had pushed her to the limit recently and it wouldn't be beyond the realms of possibility that he would have one glorious night with her and wake up to find her gone, never to return.

He felt her body tremble under his touch.

"No, Harry, I won't leave you. I love you." she said carefully.

His eyes misted over, it was so important to him to hear those words from her mouth. Not directed to someone else, not said in someone else's voice but Nikki, his Nikki telling him she loved him.

"I love you too," he said placing a delicate kiss on her lips.

"Damn!" he said.

"What now?" she cried.

"I've been telling myself that kissing you is inappropriate for so long, it's hard to break the habit," he said.

"Good job you've had four months of therapy then, because I like kissing!" her eyes glinted as she teased him.

"How long?" she asked intrigued.

"How long what?" he replied.

"How long have you been telling yourself that kissing me is inappropriate," she said copying his intonation.

"Oh somewhere between you undressing in front of me and asking me when I last had sex in the back of my car in front of Leo, and a police officer," he confessed.

"You were just scared!" she laughed.

"Too right," he laughed back.

"And when did I undress in front of you?" she queried.

"The bra thing," Harry explained.

"Oh yes, I'm surprised you remember."

"Remember? I seem to remember I had to excuse myself to the showers shortly afterwards," he admitted.

She threw her head back and laughed at him, a full belly laugh. He hadn't heard that sound for a long while and he couldn't help joining in.

"You really are the most beautiful woman in the whole world, and I can't believe you're in love with me!" he continued.

"'Fraid so. Do you think your mother will mind?" Nikki asked.

"Nah, she likes you more than me anyway, she'll be overjoyed!" Harry grumbled.

"Do you think we should try it again?" Nikki asked.

"What dinner at my mother's?" said Harry deliberately obtusely.

"No silly! Kissing!" she said expectantly.

"I think I might be able to give it a go," he said.

He pulled her tight against him but delicately nipped at her lips. He could sense Nikki growing impatient and deepened the kiss. She was exquisite. He loved the feel of her pressed up against him. It had all the comfort of those many hugs over the years but with the promise of much more and released from the necessity of having to let her go for proprieties sake. He could hardly comprehend that it was all really happening. He felt her move so she straddled his leg with hers, and was startled as she pressed herself against him, threw her head back and groaned.

He opened his eyes and regarded her, something wasn't right. He didn't mind that she wanted him, didn't mind her enthusiasm or her undisguised desire but…. 'Control. 'He thought in a moment of brilliance. She always needed the control, all those Mr Unsuitables, she just took what she wanted, when she could get it and then disposed of them. He slowly looked into her eyes and shook his head.

"No," he said, his voice so low and gravelly he hardly recognised it himself.

* * *

**Go on click over, I only split this because it had reached seven pages…**


	52. Chapter 52

**Fifty-Two**

"No," he said, again shaking his head.

"Not yours to take, mine to give," he continued.

"But," she cried her eyes wide in fear.

"Nikki, it's me, Harry," he said soothingly but kissing down her neck, and undoing the buttons on her blouse at the same time. "You have to let me do this, give you this, I need you to trust me, I need you to let me in."

"I can't," she whimpered arching back under his lips. "I don't know how?"

"Trust me, Nikki" he growled trailing a finger along the edge of her bra.

"I…?" she cried.

"I'm in love with you Nikki. Nothing bad will happen to you, I will take care of you, I will give you what you want, but this can only work if we trust each other, please Nikki, please let me in," he whispered. "I need you, I want you but I need you to trust me!"

"I'm only attracted to the wrong sort of men," she moaned.

"Not anymore," he replied.

"Why?" Nikki asked again more desperate this time, clinging to the last shreds of her self-protection shield.

"Someone just reminded me about how I needed to grow up, this is it, this is me growing up. Nothing superficial, I want the real thing Nikki. I want you, all of you."

Nikki kept her arms around him but started walking backwards towards the bedroom. With every step she searched his eyes, desperate for reassurance that this was real, that this was what she had been searching for all these years. That this was true love not some stupid happy ever after but something concrete and lasting and forever, but no matter how hard she tried there was still a part of her that remained frightened. Not frightened of him but frightened of herself.

"I'll try," she said her eyes searching his.

He was staggered by her response, after all he had done, after all these months of torture; she was still willing to try. He was truly humbled.

"I know it!" he suddenly declared.

"You know what?" she asked.

"How to undo that belt buckle?" she scoffed. This really was the oddest foreplay she had ever encountered.

"I know why you did it?" Harry exclaimed again.

"Did what? Harry please don't tell me you're going to go off on one of your little theories about my personal life that relate to classic works of literature," she said, feeling the need to pull the shoulder of her blouse back up.

"When we were in Hungary at the memorial, you saw me, I know you saw me and you turned away." Harry said. "I never knew why until just now."

"Harry, I was in shock, I was…"

"Naked," supplied Harry, moving the shoulder of her blouse back down again and kissing her bare flesh.

"What do you mean?" Nikki asked.

"You couldn't let me see you, because you were naked, all your protective walls and barriers were broken down, there was nothing left, you were exposed and you did the only thing you could, you turned away so I couldn't see." Harry explained and paused.

Tears started rolling unbidden down Nikki's cheeks like racing cars eager for the finish line; she was surprised there were still tears left.

"But then you turned round, and you looked at me." Harry continued triumphantly. "You trusted me then Nikki, you let me in, you let me hold you and look at you and in that moment I saw you and felt your agony and then I left you. I am so sorry." He punctuated his apology with kisses, kissing away her tears. "I promise you, I will never leave you again." He continued his kissing exploration, removing the blouse entirely and whispering to her as he did.

"I will do everything in my power to make sure you get everything you want, and then some. I promise you. I will never ever leave you, I love you. I've always loved you." Somehow in all this he had managed to remove his own clothes, and guide them towards the bed. It was a good thing really as Nikki was in no state for managing anything as complicated as a button.

"No more talking!" she said tipping his chin up so she could look him in the eye. "Sometimes we still don't have to say anything, sometimes!" she repeated pulling him down onto the bed. 'Seven years!' she thought to herself, seven years of knowing looks and silence and now he won't be quiet.

'Whoever thought' she wondered. 'Harry Cunningham was a talker!'

"Harry," she giggled but then his lips hit that perfect spot.

"Harry!" she gasped that time.

Harry had always enjoyed teasing her at work, getting a response from a fantastic one liner, a smile, a chuckle, one of those amazing spontaneous laughs. But here now, removing her clothes in his bedroom and teasing her body until she was desperate and dizzy.

Oh this was way better.

And her laugh, that deep throated chuckle, he'd always found that sexy, but to hear her now; a moan here and a gasp there.

He broke off from a kiss to look at her again. Her face was flushed, her eyes darker than ever.

"Thank you," he whispered as he began kissing her forehead, and then trailing kisses down her hairline and into her neck.

"For what?" she mumbled but she was rapidly losing the power of coherent speech.

"For bringing me home," he said his fingers caressing her face.

"I love you," said Harry grabbing the condoms from the nightstand.

"Let me," he asked. "I promise I will catch you,"

And then finally under the warmth of his gaze and the sincerity in his eyes, she believed him. She could do it, she could let Harry in. It was Harry, her Harry. Hadn't she dreamed of this for months; years even. She could not screw this up now. He had been right about Hungary, and she had been able to do it then. She had let him see her, the real her and she had survived and he had come back. His tenderness and passion were melting her last protective firewall, just as the way he was moving was propelling her further and further towards him and the inevitable.

"I love y.." she began, but Harry didn't need to hear it, he had already seen it in her eyes as he felt her surrounding him, accepting him, trusting him.

Her doubts finally gone, she found herself flying, surrendering and falling.

"I told you I'd catch you," she heard some time later when she had regained control of her breathing.

"Harry!" she mumbled.

She looked up to see the goofiest smile on Harry's face, she dared not think of what hers must look like.

"Harry, I'm sorry," she spluttered realising she had little recollection of the last minutes events only of her own breath taking experience.

"What are you sorry for," he grinned.

"Did you?" she began.

Harry laughed whole heartedly then, "oh yeah," he confirmed. "But if you're worried we could try again later."

Nikki laughed too, 'why had she had doubts?' she wondered. Harry was a perfectionist; she knew that and he was every bit as meticulous and brilliant at his love making as he was at his work.

"Thank you," he said humbly.

"Thank you too," she replied, but she knew Harry's thank you covered a lot more.

He watched her contentedly, her face was still flushed and her hair trailing wildly over his pillow. 'How could he have wasted so much time?' he wondered. But it didn't matter because they were here now, together and stronger than ever before, this is where he belonged, by her side.

Now he was home.

* * *

**I have an epilogue for you, which even managed to stretch itself to two chapters… so two more to go and that's your lot : )**


	53. Chapter 53

**Thanks to all you lovely people who review and make my day, you have been very generous.**

**Sorry to air all my dirty laundry but here's another little scene that bothered me, and so far you seem to have quite liked my take on things. Did they suddenly run out of money? Where was Janet? Why was Harry wearing such a dreadful suit? Had the costume department got bored of disguising the baby bump? Maybe this will help you as it helps me. This whole story has been twice as long as I anticipated, how the epilogue stretched itself to two chapters is entirely beyond me… but here we go. Sorry. It is kind of in a 6 weeks later style (but hopefully not as deeply unsatisfying as 'Shadows 6 weeks later debacle (don't get me started.)) Only this is 6 months later and a little vignette on functional dysfunctionality.**

**Fifty-Three **

**Epilogue: The final scene from 'The Prodigal,' where Leo receives his MBE, the following spring (for my purposes.)**

"_There he is,"_

"_Yes there he Is, look I can see him"_

"_Woo Photo Yeah!" _

"_And one more"_

"_And another, come on hold it up,"_

"_How's that?"_

"_Very good"_

_They all laugh_

"_Ah Lunch?"_

"_I'm glad that's over with"_

"_Well done, I'm very very proud of you",_

"_Thank you Thank you"_

"_So what do we do now? Do we bow, or curtsey?"_

"_She bows, you curtsey."_

"_What did she say to you?"_

"_She said she hoped she wouldn't see me again for a very very long time."_

Harry, Leo and Nikki walked together towards the restaurant; Leo had promised he was buying so they had everything to celebrate. Nothing was going to spoil the happiness of the day, not Janet's untimely migraine, not the impending anniversary of their trip the year before to Hungary and not the threat of yet more and more budget cuts and increased tuition fees. Today was to be special, after months of waiting they had found a ceremony date when they could all be together to celebrate Leo's MBE.

As Harry walked along his arm around his friend's shoulder he couldn't help but be grateful for his friendship and support. It had been a difficult year for all of them, but without Leo he would never have made it back to work successfully. He smiled to himself, without Nikki he wouldn't even have made it out of Hungary!

What a year.

He would like to have said that looking back he could feel at peace, contented that even though the events had been horrific that he had grown stronger and become a better person because of them. But that was bullshit, he couldn't. If he had the chance he would erase that week from his life, erase the memories and the effect that they still had on him. The way he still couldn't refill the car with petrol without feeling physically sick, or how listening to someone with an Eastern European accent made him feel hollow and the ever growing sense that he had just been used.

But in the time since his return, there had been good things. He listened as Nikki laughed at another joke Leo had made. He loved hearing her laugh. He loved her. It was amazingly simple when stripped down to the nuts and bolts. He suspected that their relationship was deeper, stronger because of all that had gone on, but it still didn't seem like enough to counter balance all the pain.

They had reached the restaurant now; Leo had done them proud; it was fancy, just as he had promised. Harry pulled out Nikki's chair for her.

"Why, thank you," she said sarcastically.

"A pleasure," he replied pretending he was about to pull it further back as she went to sit. He leant forwards and stole a kiss instead.

"You look beautiful," he whispered.

They had been together for over six months or so now. It was a record for both of them. It had taken them a while to sort out their relationship he mused, but it was worth every minute.

"Steady on, you two, I thought I'd warned you about that," said Leo from the other side of the table and they all laughed again.

Leo still despaired of both of them, the fighting, the practical jokes, the invasion of personal space. He had thought that the atmosphere at work would settle when the two of them finally settled their differences, but he had been wrong. Somehow the air was even more charged than before. He wondered how they could stand it sometimes. But they both seemed to be thriving. The light had returned to both his colleague's eyes. They approached their work with the dedication they had always shown, but now the passion was back as was the creativity and the leaps of knowledge that made them the best at what they did. He couldn't ask for a better team and for once he could rest in the knowledge that he wasn't going to lose one of them to the highest bidder or to a broken heart.

"What's so funny?" Harry asked as he felt Leo staring at them.

"Oh, I was just thinking about the team, what we have is very rare," Leo said sagely.

"Team?" Harry spluttered.

"You wouldn't be saying what a fine working team we are, if you'd have heard Nikki this morning!" Harry proclaimed.

"Why, what did she say?" Leo asked.

Nikki was opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish, but Harry continued before she could formulate the words.

"You're team player was saying dreadfully hurtful things, about a member of this uber squad so watch out!"

"Nikki!" Leo said in a shocked voice. "I can't believe you would have political objections about me receiving this award."

Nikki finally regained the power of speech, "I didn't say anything about you Leo!" she cried.

Leo looked towards Harry. He was wearing one of those expressions that Leo knew meant trouble.

"You should have heard her this morning," Harry cried again. "She accused me of looking like a Colombian drug lord, in this suit. I ask you. This is a classy suit,"

"It is not, Harry, it's as ridiculous as those yellow scrubs you had that time," Nikki replied through her laughter.

"She has got a point," agreed Leo, who too was laughing.

Harry now had his hands on his chest, feigning his heartbreak at the insults.

"It wasn't just me with the insults this morning, I seem to recall," Nikki said, daring to match Harry at his own game.

"I did not insult you, I was trying to look after you," Harry explained.

"Oh yes," said Leo pressing Nikki on to reveal more. They had no work to do this afternoon, he could take the liberty of enjoying one of their little spectacles for once instead of worrying that they would never settle down and get anything done.

"He told me that these shoes made me waddle," Nikki confessed.

"I did not say it was the shoes!" countered Harry immediately.

"Oh you tell it then," Nikki laughed.

"I said, that you might be more comfortable, in some flatter shoes..."

"You said SENSIBLE!" shouted Nikki, interrupting Harry's explanation.

"I said," reiterated Harry and speaking very slowly. "That we would be spending a lot of time on our feet, and you might like to reconsider your choice of shoes, and that I didn't want every man in London staring at your backside, as you waddled down the street in them." Harry finished the last bit off very quickly.

"I do not waddle," Nikki insisted.

"Oh, my darling but you do," laughed Harry and placed another kiss on her cheek. Harry rarely used these little epithets. After seven years they had imbued so much emotion into the way they said each other's names, so much meaning it seemed silly to retreat to cliché's but just occasionally one slipped out.

She looked across at Leo and he nodded his head slowly.

"Actually, my feet are killing me," she laughed kicking her shoes off under the table.

"Justice," declared Harry.

"You are never wearing that suit again," she replied.

"Children!" declared Leo. "Come on, let's order."


	54. Chapter 54

**Fifty-Four**

Harry pretended to look at the menu, but in reality he was watching Nikki out of the corner of his eye. She was beautiful, especially now, her face warm and flushed from laughter and the emotion of their little play fight. He let his eyes move further down, taking in the swell of her breasts and the ever increasing bump. He was a doctor, he knew the science behind all this and yet this mystery, this amazing journey, the creation of life fascinated him.

It was somehow fitting he thought that his child had been conceived on his desk. In their crazy mixed up relationship, that desk seemed to be the one defining factor for them; the one place where their lives intersected completely. It had all started with her dumping the bones of an iron age family on it and so it was the most perfectly appropriate place to begin their own family. He smiled as he thought back to that winter night. The two of them had been trawling through student applications for the next internship. They were dull, and they had been reading for hours.

"I'm bored," he'd remembered saying without any particular intent and somehow without even noticing her move, she was there, sat on the edge of his desk, her legs either side of his chair and with that look in her eye and a reply of:

"I can think of a way to cure that!"

She had cast her eyes towards the couch in Leo's office, but he had rejected that out of hand.

"Not Leo's office!" he said, shocked and had himself looked towards the cutting room.

"Perv!" had been her immediate reply, so there they were at his desk. He had tried to reason with her, claiming a lack of protection, how it could have consequences.

But then she had leaned down and kissed him hard, he didn't really hear what she had said, she was good at kissing, it was difficult to stay focused. But it had something to do with school playgrounds and being called Grandpa and taking a chance, and that was when he saw her in his mind's eye. His little girl.

Say 'yes' she had said and run off.

He'd hardly needed any more convincing by that point, but he still managed to ask one more time to be sure.

"It can take a year to fall pregnant at my age," Nikki had replied with the voice of the scientist.

"Or it can happen the first time," pronounced the believer and now here they were four months down the line. He hadn't dared say 'I told you so,' he valued his life now after all.

"To us!" Harry heard, and happily joined his friends in a toast.

"Are you alright Harry?" Leo asked, you were looking a bit pale.

"I'm absolutely fine," Harry confirmed. "Let's have a look at that medal again,"

Leo handed the box over to Harry.

"For outstanding services to the community," Harry declared and then said.

"I know it's been a difficult year, and I just wanted to thank you both for all you have done. I want you to be assured how much I value your friendship and am truly thankful for it. I have relied on you both these last few months and you have never let me down."

"Come on," warned Leo. "We promised we were going to celebrate, we're not getting morbid, not now."

"I just thought that today, there was someone else here, that deserved an award, a medal of appreciation for all their outstanding service," Harry continued.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a smaller box and placed it on the table.

Nikki gasped and looked from Harry to Leo and back to Harry again.

"Harry?" Nikki asked.

"Nikki, I am nothing without you, and with you I have everything. Please would you accept this as a sign of that. I know we haven't talked about it, and I don't want to force you into anything you don't want, but it doesn't matter it's not about that anyway. I want you to know, that I love you, and with this I am committing myself to you and our child for as long as I live,"

"So, you're not asking me to marry you?" Nikki said her eyes narrowing.

Harry faltered. He felt he'd been doing ok up until this point, but now he wasn't sure. He hadn't really even intended buying a ring when he chanced into that jewellery shop and told the sales assistant he needed to give his girlfriend a gift to show her she meant everything to him.

'A diamond really was the only choice,' the sales assistant had said and had had the decency to refrain from rubbing her hands in glee.

"Show me anything you have with a diamond from a legitimate source in South Africa," he had said. The ring had been the only option. It wasn't showy but it oozed sophistication and had the price tag to match. He'd bought it right there and then and had been waiting for this day, so he could make his own little presentation. He looked back at Nikki, his heart thumping. This time clearing out his current account had been amazingly satisfying.

"Is that what you would like? I didn't expect… we haven't…" he stuttered, unable to keep his voice from trembling.

Nikki made a face as if she was thinking about which flavour ice-cream to choose.

"Nikki," Harry growled, his voice deeper than he was expecting.

"I think I might do," she replied as if she had surprised herself by this realisation. "But you have to do it properly!" she warned.

Harry's mind raced. Do it properly? How was he going to achieve that? Do what properly? Did that mean asking her father for permission, surely she didn't expect that? He took a few moments to catch his breath and catch her eyes. They were looking expectant.

"Leo, as the most venerated Member of the British Empire at this table, and longstanding father figure to Nikki here, do you give me your permission to ask her to marry me?" Harry declared.

"I do," pronounced Leo, a look of utter delight in his eyes.

Harry pushed his chair back, grabbed the ring box off the table and knelt down. He was eye to eye with the bump and he had to work hard not to laugh. But as he looked up and met her eyes he became serious again.

He had been right that first time, right to make sure she truly opened up to him before they had made love. It wasn't that he was on some power trip, or that he always took the lead, he didn't. But in a way he was there to rescue her, just as she had rescued him and it was that trust, and that honesty, the ability to be free to show their vulnerability to each other that were the only reasons a long term relationship between them could work.

"Nikki Alexander, will you marry me?" he asked. He didn't need to add any extra words he let his eyes do the talking.

"I will," she replied and leant forward to kiss him.

Harry fumbled the ring out of the box and handed it over.

"You put it on," she said.

"I tried, it doesn't fit," Harry replied, his goofy look back. But he took her hand and slipped the ring on her finger.

"Thank you," she beamed. "It's beautiful."

"And so are you," Harry confirmed as he lifted her hand to his lips.

"Congratulations!" called Leo and Harry sat back on his seat so they could all clink glasses again.

"I have a present too," Leo confessed.

"Well, Janet found it really," he added rather sheepishly "and it's not the real thing, but we will get it when the time is right."

He handed over a torn out page from a magazine.

"This had better not be another poem," cautioned Harry as he opened it up.

It wasn't. It was a page from a children's clothing catalogue.

"I'm not sure these suits are going to fit either," Harry replied.

"The other side!" laughed Leo but by this time Nikki had grabbed the paper and turned it over. There it was, just as he had described it, an oriental red jacket with the corded buttons and little upturned collar. It was beautiful.

"Thanks Leo," Harry said sincerely.

"The baby, might not be a girl!" Nikki interjected. But Harry and Leo just laughed.

"To us!" Leo proposed.

"To all of us!" Harry added with another sideways glance at the bump.

"I can drink to that," Nikki agreed.

"Good, but that's your lot for the day," Harry fussed.

"To all of us!" they agreed. There was nothing that could spoil their celebration now. Nothing at all.

* * *

**Well there you go, I thought I'd leave them all happy and warm and fuzzy for you. Thank you so much for sticking with this, I realise it is long and I have made many demands on your imaginations and your suspension of disbelief and am truly stunned by the lovely things you have said. I hope maybe you have learned something along the way too, not an easy subject I know, but one no one is immune from.**

**I'd just like to wish all those with exams coming up this summer all the best: 'May your revision be like Harry: thorough and diligent, your answers like Nikki: passionate, brilliant and right and your results like the two of them together: just what you need. Good Luck! **

**PS bonus marks are available to anyone who can point out the similarities between Harry in this story and Mr Rochester (Jane Eyre) and of course anyone who can squeak in a quote from Pablo Neruda into an exam question. As always PM with any questions or answers. D**

**All Silent Witness characters and scenes belong to the BBC, I'm keeping Ron and the Japanese couple though.**


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